


Vacancy

by xychedelics



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, BELIVAIRD IS ENDGAME, F/F, My fave thing about this: Therese/Abby BroTP, Post-Break Up, References to Depression, Smoking, Someone asked me to make this tag:, but i promise fluff and smut later on :), tendencies of sadism and masochism for the great flood of angst i'm writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xychedelics/pseuds/xychedelics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former Lovers AU (the angsty fic no one asked for) || Therese Belivet, an artist selling her works on a street in NYC, fell in love with a beautiful English expat, Carol Aird seven years ago. Therese saw her frequently and the gorgeous woman quickly became the muse of the striving artist. Carol, a lawyer, had just moved to NYC for work back then when she gradually fell in love with the younger woman. After a few years of romance, Carol needed to return to London. A long-distance love ensues but eventually falters. Therese, having suffered badly from the break up, was hung up for such a long time. Years later, she is finally getting her life back on track but in a sudden turn of events, Carol returns to her life. </p><p>Will there still be a possibility for them to fall in love or is everything too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt for the fic:
> 
> I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else… and I will love you if you have a child, and I will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more… and I will love you if you never marry at all, and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights I prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios I have mentioned.  
> — Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

_It wasn’t your fault._

That’s what Therese told herself over and over again, every single day after she and Carol had broken up. It had been months yet ironically, every word that spilled out of her mouth were constant apologies; apologies that sounded as if her entire existence after Carol was a huge mistake.

 

_5..._

_I’m sorry I see you everywhere._

Where does one go to disappear? Therese stubbed her half-burned cigarette on the ground. She had just finished her night classes in the university and was yearning to go somewhere else, some place that would not remind her of Carol, or maybe just a place she can cease to exist. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment yet. If she did, she’d be left alone contemplating about how they used to be; how Carol would’ve waited for her to arrive home or how Carol would’ve come by the university so they could grab dinner and walk home together. But there was nowhere else to go. Therese sighed, her breath caught in the coldness of February air. She continued walking aimlessly until she reached the arch in Washington Square Park. She sat by one of the benches and mindlessly watched people coming and going. Therese was looking for Carol in everyone. She was like hunting a ghost that only she could see, hear or feel. She was no one to anyone who passed by. Their lives were tainted by the simple joy of companionship while she sits alone regressing memories from the past like she had some unfinished business. Maybe she was the ghost haunting her own mind.

Where does one go to disappear? It was so easy back then, Therese thought, when she and Carol were still together. It pained her to look back on their memories as lovers but she couldn’t help it. It was like an old broken projector in her mind that kept jumping back to random parts of the past. With Carol before, she knew where to go to disappear. Therese could vividly remember how she and Carol could just drive up to a beach in Southampton and let their woes drift into the ocean. They were different people in front of the seamless sea; their breaths taken away by how the horizon delicately embraces the sea, their minds and bodies barer and lighter in the presence of some higher form. It didn’t matter if it was summer or winter. The crashing of the waves and the waft of the sea breeze brought them some peace that the restlessness of bustling New York City couldn’t give them. During summer, Carol would be sitting in an adirondack chair deep in thought with a paperback while Therese would secretly sketch the gorgeous blonde in her grace in simplicity. Other times, Therese would be out collecting sea shells by the shoreline. Like a child, she’d gladly present them to Carol, point at her favorite one and tell her why. Carol seemed very pleased with how her lover perceived everything in her sight with the light of optimism. She thought of Therese’s youth as something endearing. When there were days that she can’t help but look at life with contempt and gloom, the young woman was there to remind her even without words that there were still things in the world still worth loving. When the sun was about to set down, the playful side of Therese would ask Carol to frolic with her in the calmer waters with the horizon emblazoned in a palette that seemed to blend tangerines and wine. The older woman would be hesitant at first but would soon join her lover as she obliged her with sweet neck kisses and a promise to make the night worth while for the both of them. Their lone silhouette in the backdrop of a golden sunset was a masterpiece to behold. At night in their rented cottage, they would lie together under blankets, their chests constantly rising and falling likened to the crest of the seas. They made love as if the spirit of the waves inhabited them. Before the pair would doze off, they talked about their future together. Last summer, a month before Carol was to return to London, this was the conversation they had:

“You’ll still love me won’t you, dear?” Carol whispered while stroking Therese’s long dark hair. Therese loved it when Carol ran her hands through her hair. She felt electrified in the gentleness of her lover’s touch yet she felt as if all the world fell more silent, more peaceful.

“Would you still love me even when I’m old and tired... and you’re still young and able?” the older woman continued.

“What makes you ask that?” Carol’s question surprised Therese. She shifted closer to the taller woman, their bare bodies entangled in each other.

“I worry about you, dear. You’re young and you… I don’t want you to miss out on so many things in life.” Her voice was husky and slow, as if in any second she might fall asleep.

It occurred to Therese that there might be some truths to what Carol was saying. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to respond because her answer might scare Carol off. She was just twenty three then with her whole life ahead of her. She still had so many things to prove, so many things she wanted to do, but was it so bad that she wanted to do everything with Carol?

“I know I still have so much to see in the world but I want to see most of it with you” she said with her back still turned to Carol.

“There would be times that you would want to discover yourself… on your own. I want you to know I’m fine with it.”

Therese didn’t exactly know what to feel. Was Carol letting her go? Was she saying that she didn’t want to take so much space in her life that she allowed her to? Therese fell silent for a long while and thought about what she could say.

“No matter where I’ll go, I’ll always find my way back to you.”

Sadly, Therese responded too late. Carol didn’t hear her answer. She turned around and saw Carol fast asleep. She drew her mouth close to Carol’s and kissed her.

“I love you,” she said under her breath. The onset of the tides were the only ones able to hear Therese speak then. Therese can now never long for the sea without thinking of Carol. The deep blue can no longer wash away her sorrows. Her memories of Carol came and went like waves. She now wondered if she could get to a shore away from the rapture of the ocean and longing in her soul. There’s no place for her to disappear to. At the end of all of this, she could still see Carol. To her, it would always be Carol.  

 

_4…_

_I’m sorry I’m trying to get rid of you by getting rid of the old me._

When Carol left, Therese felt as if the skies ached with all the hues of pining and regret. She regretted that she now had a life so distant from the thousands of mornings that she could have looked forward to. She always dreamed of waking up to Carol by her side for the rest of her years. But all those dreams that lived between them, or at least within Therese were beginning to gradually fade away, like a cigarette left burning by an open window with embers slowly dying, slowly crumbling into ash. Or a forgotten cup of coffee Carol once used to bring close to her lips, but only left to become stale and bitter. Or perhaps a letter without a return address sent to an empty house. The words contained would never come to fruition, would never rest on the breath of the intended receiver.

Therese drew the curtains from her living room windows. The rays of sunlight touched her tired eyelids. She hadn’t slept well ever since Carol made the decision that there was no room left for her in her life. Dark circles now formed around her then vibrant emerald eyes. The warmth of the sun caressed her face but all she wanted to do was to burn right then and there, to combust into nothingness so she won’t have to feel every degree of pain one had to endure in a breakup. She was restless over having the image of Carol searing in her mind as the first glimpse of her every day.

It was a Tuesday morning in February when Therese had asked Abby to help her get rid of the things Carol left behind in her apartment. She believed it would be easier to move on if there weren’t so many things in her personal space that were tainted with memories of Carol. Therese felt Abby’s occasional gaze on her as she moved from room to room, checking meticulously as if Therese had hidden other Carol-related objects from her. Both of them knew she was likely to do such.

“I guess this is everything” Abby said while holding up a cardboard box of various things spilling out of its edges. Carol’s clothes, letters, gifts, their photographs together… everything that reminded Therese of her once lover was contained in it. Therese lazily turned to face her. She could see a Billie Holiday vinyl peeping out from the corner. She was immediately reminded of that one rainy September afternoon before Carol left for London. She could still vividly remember the phonograph humming “Easy Living” along with the soft beating of the rain in the backdrop. Therese was making tea for herself and Carol when she felt the familiar arms slip through her waist, hugging her loosely from behind. She felt the taller woman’s hips swaying as if urging her to follow. Carol sang softly to Therese’s ear:

“And, I'm so in love. There's nothing in life, but you.”

Therese couldn’t help but sheepishly smile.

“Dance with me, darling.” She felt the warmth of Carol’s breath in her neck,  Carol’s mouth so close to her skin. The young brunette turned to her love with adoring eyes and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. The pair would waltz well into the night. Therese wished so hard they could stay like that forever, bounded by a rhythm never to cease.

“Belivet?” Therese was broken off from her daydream and Abby moved towards where she was. She swallowed back her tears. She didn’t want Abby to hear her voice quiver so she just nodded in acknowledgment to whatever she was saying. This is the right thing to do, she tells herself like a mantra. This is the right thing to do. Abby had called her attention once more for she seemed completely spaced out.

“Belivet!” She placed her hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder and shook her a bit.

“I'll be throwing all of them out now. Don’t even think of following me.”

Therese took another glance at the things inside the box as Abby made her way out of her apartment. As soon as she heard the door slammed shut, she hid in her bedroom and let the tears freely roll down. She clutched her pillows tight. She wished she could crawl into the arms of the woman she loved. Although she got rid of most of Carol’s belongings, she knew there was nothing that could stop her mind from wandering back to Carol. There were days when her heart sunk so low that she seemed inconsolable. This was one of those days. Her last plea for Carol to stay echoed in her mind so loudly.

“I’m sorry, Therese. I can’t do this anymore…”

“But you still love me, don’t you?”

Silence.

“...Goodbye, Therese.”

Her sobs finally subsided to whimpers minutes later and she lied down on her back taking up all the space in her bed. She can get lost in her thoughts of Carol for all she wants, but she was already lost to Carol.

Carol will come back for me, Therese tried to convince herself. She believed that if Carol saw how self-destructive and pathetic she was, she might come back in pity and help her rebuild herself again. Therese began to wonder if she could wake up in the middle of the night, pack little of what she had and run away from every single memory she had of Carol. But she can't. Everything reminded her of Carol, even herself. She felt as if she was stained by Carol’s touch--the crook of her neck, the spaces between her fingers, the corners of her mouth. Her body seemed as if it was a jigsaw puzzle that had a missing piece and it could never be whole again.

Therese was not Therese anymore but not quite yet. She had become more distant, more aloof. At work, she would try so hard to muster up a smile for customers and her colleagues in the patisserie, but at the end of the day, she would be itching to come home and be alone. There were days when she felt so low that she didn’t even want to come out of bed. She’d call in sick to her job. She’d miss her art classes in the university. She knew she’d be wasting the money that she painstakingly saved up for all those years just to get a degree. Although she was aware of the potential and drastic consequences that it would lead her to, she absolutely couldn’t get herself to do much more other than just lie down and try to forget that she existed. One night, Therese stared blankly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her green eyes set deep. Her clavicles even more apparent than before. Her cheekbones and jawline had become more prominent after losing a significant amount of weight. She had terribly reduced her diet to a balance of coffee and cigarettes. Her reflection appeared as if she wasn’t the Therese that Carol had been in love with before... but not quite just yet.  In her hands were a pair of kitchen scissors. Therese shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Her mind flashed to the nights when she and Carol would lay down in bed, the woman’s soft hands running through her hair as she whispered “my angel” to her ear. Slowly, Therese cut through her long, dark hair. As she grasped partitions of her hair from the back and laid it across her shoulder, Carol’s voice was echoing in her mind.

_“You’ll still love me won’t you, dear?”_

Snip.

_“You’re young…”_

Snip.

_“Be on your own.”_

Snip.

_“I can’t do this anymore…”_

Tears streamed down her face. When she was finished, she held the strands of her hair and let them fall to the floor. She cut her hair further, in line with her cheeks but her hair came out uneven. She didn't mind it at all. She stood there motionless for minutes. Therese was no longer Therese. There was nothing left for Carol to find endearing with her, and perhaps nothing to love about her anymore.

 

_3…_

_I’m sorry I never deserved your love._

How do you fix something that’s broken? Step 1: Sometimes you just have to let them be. There were moments when Therese felt like she was perfectly fine, that she had moved on from Carol and she can function without her again. Carol would be just someone from long ago, some distant memory, and she would be ready for a fresh start soon enough. Therese felt better that day and decided to have a night out with some of her workmates. It was spring, and nature was coming back to life again. Therese, in the midst of all this, asked for weird signs from the universe to let her know when to start forgetting about Carol. It was obnoxious, she believed, to put one’s decisions on complete dependence to random circumstance. Like one time, she asked for this sign: if she won’t get to stand in the train commute home, she would absolutely stop pining for Carol. That afternoon with such certainty and for some inexplicable reason, Therese got a seat in the the train in one the busiest commute hours. But the thing with her is she’s very stubborn. If the sign she asked really did happen, she was quick to say that that wasn’t the real sign and she’s ask for another one. Tonight, she had asked for this sign: if she could score with a girl tonight, she would definitely try to move on.

It was a Friday night in May when she and her workmates headed down to a dive bar somewhere in Williamsburg. It was the birthday of one of their bakers in the patisserie and drinks were on him. Therese felt she was only invited out of pity. She looked unkempt and sad most of the time. She became suddenly aloof to everyone. But tonight, Therese was having a blast so far just laughing with the group and actually conversing with them. She wasn’t evasive like before. She wore a beanie ever since she cut her hair because she didn’t want other people to see the terrible thing she did. It was open mic night and the guys kept drunkenly belting out rock ballads from the 80’s. She was alone by the bar stools completely drunk too when a stunning young redhead approached her. From the little bits that Therese can comprehend, her name was Ella and she was a film major in NYU. Ella was attractive. She had an asymmetrical bob and a beauty mark near her lips. Therese kept gazing at it for no apparent reason other than she was drunk, but Ella had mistakenly thought that Therese wanted to kiss her and so she did. Therese was surprised but she seemed to like it… only because she had imagined that she was kissing Carol instead. She said goodbye to one of her workmates and then they left the bar for Ella’s apartment in Greenpoint.  Everything was a blur to her that night, but when she woke up the morning after to a stranger lying naked beside her, she didn’t know what to think of herself because the whole time she was with the woman she was thinking of making love to Carol. Therese was slightly appalled with herself. She gathered all her clothes and started getting dressed as fast as she can without waking up the naked woman on the bed. Therese looked up at the saffron tainted skies in between the jaggedness of the concrete and glass skyline outside the stranger’s apartment. She cursed the universe for having given her a sign to forget Carol when all this time, her former lover was the only thing she could ever think of. She thought to herself as the corners of her eyes started to fill up with the tears she had not longed for: She would never be so happy with anyone again. But was it even possible for love and hate to take up the same space in her heart? Carol made her feel alive. It didn’t matter if it hurt. She just wanted her back. Therese was a complete mess now. Will Carol take notice and take her back?

 

_2..._

_I’m sorry I keep falling apart._

How do you fix something that’s broken? If Step 1 fails: don’t let them be. Abby came to check on Therese one Saturday morning when she wasn’t able to send her a message that she arrived home safely. The two women had gotten close after Carol left. Abby was like an older sister to Therese. Abby was there looking after her. She was Therese’s voice of reason, telling her often to get her shit together. When the pair separated, Abby took it hard too. She thought Carol and Therese would spend the rest of their lives together. She was left in the such an awkward predicament being Carol’s best friend and Therese’s assumed big sister. Although she knew better than to take sides, she felt extremely sorry for Therese. She thought everything was going fine between Therese and Carol until Therese broke the terrible news to her. She could still remember it. It was past midnight, just a few day’s before New Year’s day when Therese looked like a tragedy standing on her front door. She was desolate and everything just kept going downhill from then on. Abby acted as mediator between the former lovers, but it didn’t work.

When Therese had failed to open her front door after a few knocks, Abby let herself in since she knew where Therese hid her spare key. As she entered, she found Therese sprawled on the living room floor with bottles of alcohol around her. Abby was frightened for a second. She rushed to Therese’s side and shook her but she didn’t respond. She checked her pulse and let out a sigh of relief. She struggled a bit to carry the small woman to the couch. While waiting for Therese to wake up, she cleaned up after the young woman, stowing away bottles, washing her dishes and nibbling some of the chicken nuggets that she had brought for Therese.

“Abby?” Therese was slowly regaining consciousness.

“Goddamnit, Belivet! Are you trying to kill yourself?” No response. “Vodka? That stuff tastes like crap.”

Therese suddenly got up and bolted to the bathroom and started throwing up. Abby was fast to follow with a glass of water and a towel. She would instinctively keep the young girl’s hair out of her face, but when Therese’s beanie fell to the floor...

“What the fuck did you do with your hair?” Abby asked with a manic tinge in her voice. Therese sat down on the bathroom floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The older woman stared at the the restless figure who was fast to avoid her eyes. Therese sat in a fetal position and rested her head on her arms.

“Therese…” Abby only called the young woman by her first name if she knew nagging won’t get her to talk. It was a softer side to Abby that she hardly lets anyone see. The young woman avoided Abby’s gaze but she was suddenly held tight in her arms. Therese seemed helpless in her grasp. The heartbreak that she was going through made Abby gravely aware of how young her friend was. Therese didn’t know what to do or where to go. She was vulnerable. Usually, she’d just nag at Therese for being so reckless. But this time, she felt like Therese didn’t need any of that. She decided to stay mum and let Therese talk when she feels like it.

“I’ll run you a hot bath.” Abby said as she proceeded to prepare the tub for her. Therese was spaced out.

“I brought chicken nuggets. I’ll warm them up for you. If you don’t come out by fifteen minutes, I am going to barge in here, ok?” Abby didn’t wait for a response. She closed the bathroom door and came back a few seconds later to hand Therese some change of clothes.

Therese came out exactly fifteen minutes later wearing her donut-printed pajamas. She found Abby sitting on the kitchen counter drinking her cup of coffee. Therese avoided Abby’s stare and ravaged the box of chicken nuggets.

“Seems like you haven’t eaten in decades…” an unintentional small giggle came out of Abby as she also took a nugget from the box. An awkward silence enveloped the room. Abby just tinkered with her phone for a while pretentiously checking her emails. From the corner of her eye, she could see Therese starting to tear up. She sat beside her.  

“I can't quit her, Abby.” Those were  the first words that came out of her the whole day. “I don’t know what to do.” Abby kept silent and just listened to Therese.

“If she loved me why did she leave? Why did she change her mind all of a sudden?” Therese was bawling now.

“I wasn’t enough for her, wasn’t I?” Abby hushed her, held her in her arms once more and rubbed her back. Therese just kept falling apart. Forcing herself to fall out of love was like waging war to the same heart that believes she can make it out alive in the fury of her own thoughts. Abby was devastated seeing Therese like that, but the broken woman just kept mumbling.

“I don’t want to fall apart anymore. I just want to be okay...” she mumbled.

Abby’s maroon chiffon blouse was already drenched with Therese’s tears.  When they pulled away, Abby held Therese’s hands and said:

“It’s okay to fall apart, but realizing that you don’t want to anymore is the first step. It’s a good thing.” Therese finally matched Abby’s gaze but with a hint of disdain.

“What’s good about having your heart broken? Abby, it isn’t fair…”

Therese seemed as if she was going to cry again but Abby held the helpless woman’s hands tighter.

“You’re too young to understand it now and nothing I may say now might make sense, but soon it will. I promise you. You’ll be fine. You’ll be stronger after this.”

Therese broke eye contact and just stared down. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ll get through it.” Abby wanted to lighten up the mood. “I mean, shit.” Therese suddenly flinched. Abby continues, “You get drunk without me and you choose some crappy tasting vodka? That’s low, Belivet.” A genuine slight smile ran across Therese’s face. “I’m bringing scotch next time.” The young woman chuckled. “And what the fuck happened to your hair, Belivet? It’s like a lawn mower ran over it or something. I’m fixing it, and then you could rest after.” The two women who were once enemies were now friends. After Abby had trimmed the younger woman’s hair, they watched reruns of Buffy. The younger woman had fallen asleep two episodes in.

 

_1..._

_I’m sorry you were the only home I ever knew._

How can one look at some place (or someone) and call them home? Therese constantly wondered but somehow she knew. A day after Abby had taken her to an art exhibition of a friend, something inside her felt like there’s a life for her waiting after Carol, a life led for art. She gave herself an ultimatum: She planned to fly to London in her last attempt to win back Carol. Maybe if Carol saw her, she’d change her mind about her. For the expenses of her trip, Therese intended to use what’s left of her savings set aside for her tuition in art school. It didn’t matter, she thought, she’d work twice as hard when she returns to NY. She’ll take extra shifts or she’ll even take another job. It didn’t matter because she was doing it for Carol. If Carol takes her back, then all of her grim days would be over. But If she says no (God forbid that she does), that’s it for her. She’ll try to “unlove” Carol.

In the cusp of spring and summer, Therese hopped on a plane from NYC to London bringing with her only a duffel bag that contained a week’s worth of change of clothes, her sketchbook and a watercolor set, and of course, a small gift for Carol. Eight hours later in economy, she was stepping foot on foreign ground: London, the place that Carol called home. It was quarter past two in the morning when she had arrived and checked into her quaint hostel in Soho. She had two roommates who were from France. They were getting ready to go on their second rave for the night. They had invited Therese to come with them but she politely declined. When the two women left, she changed into her sleeping clothes and lied down on her bunk bed. She was excited to see Carol. What was she like after a few months? Probably even more beautiful than she could remember, she thought. What would Carol think of her hair? She would most definitely be taken aback by the shortness of it. Her gift for Carol was a leather bound first edition of Albert Camus’ “The Stranger.” She had searched for it in all the antique book shops in NYC. The book was in perfect condition. The cover was in a shade of blue with gold accents. Therese knew Carol would love it. It would be a great addition to the well-read woman’s collection. Inserted in it was a small note. Therese read it quietly and smiled to herself. She was going to see Carol tomorrow. Finally. She was in the same city with Carol. They were underneath the same skies, their thoughts soaring through the same atmosphere. Therese could hardly sleep from her excitement.

The next morning Therese ate pancakes and bacon at a brunch place near the hostel _._ She brought along with her the last letter that Carol had sent her as reference for the woman’s address. After finishing her meal, she had asked for directions to a group of students who were waiting for their orders in a nearby table. Therese figured that Carol won’t be home from work yet until supper time so she decides to explore Central London a bit. Like a tourist she took photographs of the beautiful architecture in Central London. She was allured with everything--the markets, the tube, the tea shops and the art stores. It was her first trip abroad after all. In the next coming days when she’ll have more free time, she’d be sure to sketch the beautiful urban landscape of London.

It was around seven in the evening when she took the train from the Oxford Circus Station going to Pimlico. She walked for a few hundred meters until she finally found where Carol’s flat was-- it was in a stunning white Victorian edifice in Warwick Square. Weeping elms hung over the pathways and expensive vehicles were parked on the side of the road. It was certainly a rich neighborhood, Therese thought. She walked up to the front porch and took a deep breath. On her hands were a bouquet of lilies and her gift for Carol carefully bundled up in simple brown wrapping paper. She was trembling not because of the cold weather but she was actually having second thoughts of seeing her former lover. She was nervous because she hadn’t seen Carol in more than a year. But she was already there right in front of the ebony door, just a few more steps to Carol. Right before she entered, a man in a navy blue business coat suddenly came out of a parked car. He stood beside her.

“Right before you, miss.” The man with graying hair opened the door for her.

Therese stepped inside and thanked the man. She went through three flights of staircases and it seemed as if the man was following her. She passed through the corridor and found Flat B, just as it was written in the letter that Carol last addressed to her.

Therese knocked gently on the door and waited.

There was no answer.

She knocked a little more agitatedly.

Silence.

The man appeared at the landing of the staircase. He looked a little bit out of breath considering his age. They exchanged smiles as he passed by her.

Therese knocked louder this time.

Still, no answer.

The man walked towards Flat D. “Are you looking to lease the property, miss?” the man asked while trying to open the door to his place.

“No, sir. Uhm, my friend supposedly lives here.” The man had a puzzled look on his face.

“A friend? I’m afraid to tell you but that flat has been in the market for months now.”

Therese’s eyes went wide. On the market? What was the man talking about?

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Is your friend’s name Carol…”

“Yes, Carol!” Therese didn’t let the man finish. “Would you happen to know where she is now?”

“I have no idea.” The man shook his head wistfully. “The flat has been vacant for quite some time now. I’m sorry I can’t help you, miss.” The man entered his flat and Therese felt her heart completely sink. Therese was in utter disbelief. Her feelings of excitement were for nothing. Carol was gone and she didn’t know where to look for her. Her eyes started welling up and she can’t contain it anymore. She dropped the bouquet of flowers on the floor and she pressed the book across her chest. She was sobbing in front of the place that Carol once called home. But home for Therese was now a long way from here.

 

_0…_

_I’m sorry I still love you._


	2. A Long Way From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese struggles to find her bearings after her ill-fated last stretch to win over Carol. Abby encourages the young woman to stay in London a little longer hoping the change in setting will allow her to find herself again. Alone in a strange city, Therese felt like home was nowhere. Carol, on the other hand, is at her wits’ end after she evades Abby’s hard-hitting questions about Therese. Plagued by thoughts about her once lover after a confrontation with Abby, Carol wonders if she made the right choice.

Where did all the love go when the person who used to be your everything suddenly leaves?

Did all that pent up love transcend to another plane, to another world where it simply dissipated? In its path, did it renounce every trace that it once lingered and breathed life to two people? There was nothing to it. Love… just disappeared.

Or did it perhaps still stay in one’s heart perpetually staking claim on one of its chambers? Did love lay dormant for a while until a memory, a photograph, a scent, or perhaps a name ignited it to come alive again? With every passing heartbeat, it seems to say, “I am here. I am here. I have always been here…” Love never left.

Where was Therese supposed to put all the love that she had when Carol didn’t want it anymore?  

* * *

 An intense loneliness dawned on Therese as she roamed the streets of Central London that ironically became stranger to her the more she passed by them. From the Oxford Circus Station, Therese walked and walked unconsciously leading herself to get lost. The sullen figure looked up at the black night sky. There was no moon to speak to, nor stars. The sky was so dark that the hour perhaps could be nameless. Her mind had entrusted her to come back in one piece to her hostel, but her feet led her astray. She had hoped to lose all the memories and the feelings she had for Carol but they came in fragments sluggishly piecing together; her beautiful gray eyes possessing so much love and glee when she used to look at her, the way the woman’s blonde hair curled when she laid her head on the curve of her shoulder and her mouth, among many other things, crimsoned and soft, unabashed when the woman presses her lips again and again lapping on hers. But what Therese longed for the most was hearing Carol say her name and the three words that came before it. She wished to relive all of that, but they were wounds that she couldn’t heal from. What made melancholy so enchanting to a fragmented heart? _If melancholy was the pleasure of being sad, then what kind of pleasure was the world left capable of then?_ Therese thought.    

Looking up at the facade of her hostel, the London air felt harsh on Therese’s cheeks. It blew on her fiercely, gravely cold. It made her eyes well up, a mixture of the bitter cold and her broken heart. Therese wanted to go home already. She wanted to go back to New York. There was nothing to stay for. She came all the way to London for nothing. There was no place to call home here. _Go and call Abby,_ she thought, but Therese hadn’t told Abby that she had flown roughly three thousand miles just to see Carol. Abby would think she was crazy for doing it out on a whim. Love made someone do mundane things--like fly across the Atlantic using everything of what very little money she had stowed away. If love wasn’t madness then it probably wasn’t love at all, at least that’s what the young woman believed. Therese thought she was all alone in her hostel room in the dismal after hours, but melancholy was such a faithful companion. It walked along with her all night long until it made its presence known in the silence of her own space.

It was four in the morning in London. Therese tossed and turned and she still couldn’t fall asleep. She finally decided to call someone who might know where home was or knew what home felt like. She called Abby. It took just a few rings before the woman picked up her phone.

“Belivet!” The woman’s tone was jovial, but maybe a bit too much. She might have had a glass of scotch… or two.

Therese was contemplating on the words she wanted to say. She hadn’t thought of it before picking up the phone. The silence was agonizing when Abby waited for Therese to respond. The young woman didn’t think Abby would pick up at all anyways at such hour.

“Belivet, are you there?” Therese suddenly began sobbing and that’s all Abby could hear. The poor young woman didn’t know if she was crying because of her failure to find Carol or if it was because she could finally hear a voice who knew what she was going through and cared for her immensely.

“Therese?”

“She’s gone. I want to come home.” Those were the only words that Therese could muster up. Abby waited for Therese to speak again, but she didn’t. Therese let her surmise the weight of her pendulous words.

“Tell me what happened first, will ya? I’m a lesbian but I can’t always read through subtext ya know?”

Therese would’ve laughed at that comment. But right now, there wasn’t any emotion that she felt but crippling hopelessness and longing.

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” Abby obliged.

“You can’t.” 

“What do you mean, I can’t? Don’t try anything funny. If you’re thinking of ending yourself…” Abby’s voice became very stern thinking about the times she found Therese passed out in her apartment.

“No!” Therese exclaimed a little bit miffed. “I’m in London.”

“London? Well, I’ll be damned.”

Abby didn’t know what to think of the situation. Was she surprised that Therese was in London? Yes. Was she surprised that the brunette was capable of such a thing? No. Waiting for Therese to explain what was happening was a lost cause. Abby had to pry out the facts from her.

“You came to see her didn’t you?”

Although Abby didn’t hear a response, in her mind she knew the young woman was nodding her head.

“Did you get to talk to her?”

Therese was desperately trying to get herself together. She ran her hand through her head feeling its lightness. It was now devoid of her long dark mane that Carol used to love running her hands to. If Carol saw her that night, what would’ve she thought? Therese wiped her tears with the back of her hand as she began to speak again.  

“I went to her loft and she wasn’t there.” She said ‘loft’ in a sarcastic tone. ”Her neighbor said she moved somewhere else.”

“Are you sure you went to the right place?” Abby repeated Carol’s last known address to the somber young woman. It was indeed the same address that she went to a few hours ago. Abby waited patiently for Therese until her sobs subsided.

“I want to come home.” Therese sounded like a petulant child. Abby was aware of the stupid decisions that her friend kept on repeatedly making for the past months.

“Come home? How many days have you been there?”

“Roughly two.”

“Honey,” Abby’s tone was tinged with disappointment. “Why don’t you stay there for a while? Get a change of perspective. It's going to do you well.” 

 _Going to do her well?_ As far as Therese knew, nothing could ever make her feel better but she still tried to listen. Abby was after all, her voice of reason now that she can’t even trust herself.  
“When’s your return flight?” It was fifteen days after that day. “I’ll give a word to the university if you’re missing out on your classes. I'll make up some shitty excuse.” Therese was very thankful for Abby for going out of her way for her.

“But what am I supposed to do here?”

“I don’t know… make art? Fuck girls? Get yourself busy but don’t do anything stupid or else I’m going to kill you before you can.”

Therese giggled a bit. If there was anyone who could make the room feel lighter, it was Abby.

“You’re a fucking mess, Belivet.” Abby sighed.

“I know.”

* * *

 In the early days of Carol and Therese’s blossoming relationship, Abby was admittedly and blatantly suspicious of Therese. It was justifiable since Abby was a long time friend of Carol’s. The two had met in law school more than a decade ago. Being granted with a full scholarship to study in a prestigious university in the United Kingdom, young Abigail Gerhard was determined to show just how much of a force she was to be reckoned with. Her fierce competitor came in the form of Carolyn Ross, a tall, gorgeous English girl whose wit was just as sharp as hers and an eloquence that could very much be better than hers. The young lady was beautiful and brilliant in every aspect, but young Abby wasn’t going to back down that easily. The two were relentless competitors at first, but gradually became friends once forced to work together for a high-profile case that their law professor had tapped them both into. Abby was Carol’s best friend, her confidante. They knew everything about each other. After graduating, Abby took the corporate track while Carol on the other hand became an international human rights lawyer. Carol was on top of her game when she came to Abby’s hometown of New York a couple of years ago. Abby was pleased that she lived close by, but was less than pleased to know that her friend fell in love in a matter of weeks with an artist ten years her junior who was even struggling to make ends meet. Carol and Therese were obviously from two different worlds. Of course Abby had to be suspicious! What could they possibly have in common? But Therese eventually won her over. Abby’s uncertainty about the young woman vanished when they found out that they had more in common than wanting what’s best for Carol. For one, Abby was a lover of the arts. Abby, having many friends in the art world, knew the chaos in their minds and the  tumultuous relationships they had been having one after another. She didn’t want Therese to hurt Carol that’s why she was doubtful at first. But Therese turned out differently. She truly loved Carol and it was extremely palpable to anyone who was around the two lovebirds. Abby also saw talent in the young lady, but she knew she still had a lot of things to learn. She introduced her to some of her friends who were artists and she also had commissioned Therese for a triptych in their law office. The odd twosome developed a special bond, but Carol and Therese’s break up did a number on her. She had a deep closeness to both of them and would refuse to take sides. In Carol’s sudden distance from her, Abby started to think otherwise.

It was quarter past seven the next Sunday morning when Abby got hold of Carol. The busy woman probably had her days off during the weekend, she guessed. Abby wasn’t the type of person who mingled with other people’s affairs but she was so worried about Therese that she just had to at least attempt to make things right for the helpless young woman. Carol picked up after three rings. The two exchanged pleasantries, but Abby was fast on her heels to address the elephant in the room.

“Carol,” Abby started slowly, “Therese is in London.”

“In London?” Carol was surprised. "Here?" The rise in her voice was so audible. Her heart leaped. It had been almost two years when she last saw Therese, and it had been the time that they had broken up.

“She went to your place but you weren’t there.” Abby’s tone was compassionate yet Carol remained quiet on the other line.

“Will you please go see her? I know I’m asking a lot, but I’ve been constantly worried about her.” The kindness in her voice let Carol knew she was serious.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Carol’s voice trembled.

“Come on, Carol. Go see the poor girl.” Abby urged. “She flew all the way there just to see you. Give her a chance to talk to you.”

“You know I can’t, Abby.” Carol bit her lip and breathed deeper.

“Well, if you can’t? Could you at least tell me why?”

“I’ll be flying to Paris tomorrow. I have so much to prepare. ”

“Tomorrow is not today. Please go see her. You have time.” Abby’s voice was becoming agitated.

“But I have to pack my things and I still have a few people I need to…”

Now Carol was just being evasive and Abby was having none of it.

“Why don’t you want to see her?” Her compassionate tone suddenly became rigid.  “Are you afraid that you might have made the wrong choice?” Carol swallowed hard. She knew this conversation was just going to intensify even more.

“Are you afraid that when you see Therese you’d take her in so easily the way you set her aside like she meant nothing to you?”

There was just silence on the other end. Abby was frustrated with Carol.

“That girl may be foolish and naive for wanting to do things for you after all that shit you’ve done to her.”

Abby and Therese might have had misunderstandings before, but there was no doubt that Abby had her back now.

“Don’t do this to Therese if you still care an inkling about her.”

Carol felt her tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t want Abby to tear her apart knowing what she herself already knew in her heart.

“Goodbye, Abby.”

The connection was cut off.

* * *

 After meeting with a colleague at a cafe just across the river from the Ile Saint-Louis, Carol decided to head back to her hotel room even though it was only five in the afternoon. The sun was still beaming at the skyline and the weather was generally cordial. It was the perfect time to take a walk by the river but Carol was exhausted and she decided against. While walking around Paris’ cobbled streets on her way to the hotel, Carol saw a young woman closely resembling Therese. The young woman had long, unkempt dark hair and kind yet strong facial features-- much like Therese's. Carol wanted to call out the name that she hadn’t said for a while now, wanting to let longing exude in the way she said it, but she knew the young lady wasn’t her Therese. Carol couldn’t get her mind off the conversation she had with yesterday. Did she really still care about her? Did she make the wrong choice? Did she still love Therese? She couldn’t make up her mind. Was she in denial? She didn’t want to know. She continued gazing at the young woman and was reminded of the spring when she had just moved to New York. She had a first glimpse of the beautiful, young artist, Therese Belivet a couple of blocks away from her apartment in Greenwich Village. She planned to explore the neighborhood she lived in during her first weekend in the city. After having brunch, she walked along Prince Street in SoHo where numerous artists had their work laid out in the sidewalk. Canvases with splotches of paint, abstract-themed photographs and installations created from various materials all lined up the vibrant pathway. Although Carol did not buy anything there, she loved looking at the magnificent masterpieces, trying to make sense of the visuals laid out in front of her. Being new to street art vending, Therese’s stand was relatively small compared to the other artists’. She only had around eight artworks in varying sizes displayed. She probably didn’t make as much as the other veterans around her. At the end of the street, she caught sight of Therese making a sketch for a passerby. Her lips were pursed showing extreme focus at the task at hand. Carol thought, was it possible for the artist to be art herself? As Therese averted her gaze from her subject for a while, she noticed the beautiful blonde woman watching her intently. Something within her sort of clicked upon seeing Carol. It was a feeling that had no name, perhaps inexplicable beyond words. It radiated within the depths of the person. It was that ceaseless urge to get to know someone but feeling as if they’ve known that person before. It was kind of like the heart saying: “I know you’ll be that someone to me someday.” She continued her sketch, but she was completely conscious of the pair of gray eyes glued on her. She wanted to capture the gorgeous woman in her art. When she went home that night, that's what she did.

One Saturday, Carol saw Therese packing up her artworks at dusk and counting little of what she had earned for the day.

“Not a good day?” Carol asked.

Therese turned around to see the stranger who was chatting her up. She was a bit startled. It was the woman she had secretly deemed as her muse.

“Could be better.” Therese responded with a forced smile. She continued stowing away her art pieces in her trolley while the older woman was quick to give her a hand. Carol’s presence made Therese nervous. She had seen the woman so many times before but had never interacted with her. Therese's nervousness only escalated when Carol took hold of one of her paintings-- the one inspired by the woman herself. Carol knelt down the pathway and lingered on the piece of art-- a blonde woman seemingly resembling her drowning in tub of hands. Therese was trying to read the emotions in Carol’s face, but she couldn’t. She felt a surge of warmth surge through her face. Her hands were about to grab the painting away from Carol's sight when she suddenly asked,

“What’s the name of this piece?” Her eyes didn't stray from the painting.

“It’s, uhm, called… ‘At Least We’ll Hold On to Each Other.’” Therese knelt beside Carol.

“It’s beautiful. It’s a strange visual metaphor, but it definitely tells a story.”

“Would you like to have it?” Therese asked a bit meekly. Guilty. She had been caught to have immortalized the gorgeous woman in her art.

Carol turned to face Therese. “How much is it?”

“You can keep it if you really like it. I don’t mind.”

Carol’s eyes wandered around. “For free?” She whispered under her breath. She knew Therese hadn’t made a lot of money that day. She got out a hundred dollar bill and thrusted it towards her. Therese’s eyes widened.

“Please." She waved her off. "You don’t have to.”

Carol slid the money back to her purse.

“If you won’t let me pay for it, will you let me take you out for dinner then?” Therese knew the woman won’t back down from her commanding presence. There won’t be any point trying to argue. And besides, the idea made her feel elated. When Carol engaged in that small talk with Therese, something within her sort of clicked too. To her, it was a feeling that had no name, perhaps inexplicable beyond words and expression. It radiated within Carol. It was that ceaseless urge to get to know someone but feeling as if they’ve known that person before. To name that feeling was to know the name from which that feeling emanated from.

“ _Therese,_ ” the brunette extended her arm towards Carol. “My name is Therese.”

Carol snapped herself out of her daydream and turned away from the young woman who still seemed to be absent-minded. She continued on her path, mouthing the name that once tasted sweet on her lips. At night, she was haunted more by her memories of Therese. She swirled her glass of Cabernet before taking a long gulp, feeling the warmth flow inside her. She had gone back to her hotel room early so she can get some rest before she had to interview a key witness to a case early morning, but sleep didn’t want to visit her. It was half an hour past three in the morning and she was still gazing up at the ceiling, wishing she knew what to do. She wondered where all her love for Therese went to after all these years? _How would one know if love left or if love stayed?_   She wondered. Are there symptoms that could surface? Could love be likened to a dreaded disease threatening to take over one’s wellness? But love, foremost, didn’t have to be destructive. She knew that, but it wasn’t the case for her once lover, Therese. Maybe everyone was just in total denial of the simple sad truth and that became the destructive part. The simple sad truth that love permanently stayed and it was only able to make space for new people to come in. Love never leaves. The night kept drinking her sorrows like wine as she lied alone. She could hear heartbeat as if to say,  “I am here. I am here. I will always be here…” Sleep wouldn’t dawn on her eyes for another hour. Carol thought: time drifted ever so slowly when half of her heart couldn’t make its way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if the update took way too long. 
> 
> Special shoutout to writer, Odeon for verifying with Phyllis Nagy that Carolyn Ross is indeed Carol's maiden name. :D
> 
> Now we know how Carol and Therese met. Next chapter, we'll know why they broke up. And yes, we're going to go through a couple (by that I mean, a lot) of angsty (hell) chapters before we could get to the good ones. As assurance once again, it will all end satisfyingly.


	3. The Anatomy of a Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a look at why Carol and Therese broke up. And Carol's secret is revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there's a slight 'blood cw' at the end.

The human heart was prone to betrayal.

Fate refused to believe in it; Science will theorize and attempt to prove it.

The heart could happen to be the traitor to its own master, the one that it painstakingly keeps alive in all those moments of fight or flight and of love and loss. One second, the heart could be beating rhythmically, in sync with the rest of the world and with one’s soul. But what would happen in a split second when it threatened to change everything? What if it deviated from the very thing (and the only task) it was ought to do?

A broken heart would beat fast at the onset of dread and anger because of being left by the beloved. Ironically, it would also beat slow when it denied the absence of the beloved. No, the brokenness had not disappeared nor had it been repaired. It just continued to mask itself until something triggers it all over again, all of a sudden.

 _Cardiac Arrhythmia._ That was what science called as the condition in which the heart beats irregularly. The heart was either beating too fast or too slow. If that was the case, would it be similar to the symptoms of a broken heart?

 _Heart Failure._ Science called it as the inability for the heart to perform its function. The heart wasn’t working as well as it should. It simply could not cope from the demands of the pumping in and out of blood. Likewise, the person with a broken heart can no longer perform daily tasks seamlessly. Nothing really seemed to matter anymore. A certain numbness would then introduce itself. Sometimes, what could come after it is something horrific. The body goes through a shock and the heart results to a plummeting halt from the pressure and palpitations that it couldn’t take anymore.

 _Heart Attack._ Science said that this occurred when there was something blocking an artery from oxygen-rich blood. If blood doesn’t pass through, parts of the heart would die if it was not eventually treated. If a broken heart doesn’t get what it needs or it does not recover, it ceases. They say a severe overdose of drugs can lead to a heart attack. Love was a drug. It was addicting. Can one overdose from it? Could it possibly lead to a terrifying heart attack?

Sometimes, these conditions come without warning. Other times, the symptoms were there all along, boasting itself shamelessly. The person who had a broken heart just refused to acknowledge it, oblivious to the need of that important thing that sustains life. Some effects could be reversible. The broken heart can recover again, but it will never function as efficiently as before.

Science had theorized and attempted that the heart was a traitor. With the facts laid out, fate would still continue to believe otherwise.

* * *

**Paris. May 2012.**

_La Ville Lumière. La Ville De L'amour._

The City of Light. The City of Love.

Carol was desensitized to all these monikers. She had been to the city too many times and the latter never did settle on her. A city where love dwelled? She snorted at the thought. Love could never stay at one place, she thought. Carol usually punctuated her days after work at Paris by drinking fine wine at the balcony of her room. This afternoon, she had other plans. Carol decided to look at some art at the _Musée de l'Orangerie_ to hopefully calm and destress her mind _._ Art oddly didn’t remind her of Therese. No, it certainly didn’t-- well, that’s what she convinced herself.

It was quarter before five in the afternoon and there was still an hour left to look at the paintings before the museum closed. Every time Carol was at Paris, she made it a point to view Monet’s _Water Lilies._ The eight astounding paintings were vastly laid out on the walls of a pair of oval rooms in the museum. Carol entered one and sat at a bench in the middle of the room. She let the paintings overwhelm her like she was over or under the surface of water. There was no horizon nor a bank in which the endless hues of blues would end or begin. Though the paintings represented a pond, her mind drifted off to remember the times she would frolic with Therese in the ocean-- the endless waves down in Southampton, in Cooper’s beach back in New York. Their laughter and the way Therese said her name was now only an echo from the past. Her mind drifted to the spaces where the tones of blue became richer or lighter. Would it wash her memories way back to where her heart knew where home was?

The speckles of green paint reminded her of Therese’s eyes, doppled sporadically all across the canvas. A couple of years ago, Carol saw April in Therese’s emerald eyes for the first time. With a single glance of her in that vibrant New York street, she felt as if every single tomorrow would spring forth with so much life, with so much promise with the young woman; it was the beginning of something that could perhaps change the course of her whole life. Like the spectrum of colors the lilies could come in, she eventually saw May, June and July in her young lover under the heat of the northern sun. In that summer as the waters glistened with the full bloom of the ravishing flowers, they were in love.

What transpired a year later was something that could be as inevitable as the changing of the seasons. The canvas of colors reflected this: the water lilies under summer and afternoon skies sheeted with puffy clouds and a disdained tone of yellows under the falling sun. On a July summer day, Carol had to go back to London leaving Therese in New York. It was a sorrowful parting. In the airport, Therese’s figure became smaller and smaller in the crowd as she walked away. Her young lover’s eyes filled with longing was the last memory she had of her. The two had promised to stay together amidst an ocean separating them. Carol believed that her heart was beating in two places: here and wherever Therese was.

All of that changed gradually.

Carol found herself being more distant to Therese because she got too engulfed with work. Carol was on the top of her career. Her dream of making a difference to a multitude of people was coming to absolute fruition. This was what she had always envisioned for herself for most of her young life. She was helping develop landmark litigation across Europe for the LGBT. Therese, out of all the people, understood Carol’s dreams that was why she was patient with her when Carol couldn’t make time to chat and play catch up with her. London--Europe was Carol’s home before she met her. Therese knew that, but it made her jealous. Why can’t she be the home that Carol would come to call? The distance would sometimes dawn on the two and Carol would ask,  
“Do you think it’s worth it?”  
“Love is worth it.” Therese would simply respond. Such wise words for a young woman, Carol thought.  
Therese was a bit oblivious being in love for the first time. Carol was giving up, but Therese stuck to the hope that Carol would still make time for her, that she wasn’t just fading in the background of her lover’s dreams. They would fight about it in the rarest times they could get in touch. Therese would always end up being too apologetic, feeling like it was all her fault. Therese clung to Carol as if her whole world revolved around her. She’d do anything not to lose her.

As Carol moved to the other oval room, she remembered the day she had promised to come to New York for Therese’s birthday. But she didn’t. She came weeks after, not to see Therese but for a short conference she had to take part in. In the brief moment they had agreed to meet, Carol had planned to call it quits. She had to break the young woman’s heart. She dreaded it.

Carol and Therese were to meet at a cafe in the corner of York and Jay Street in Brooklyn. As she slowly approached the cafe, Carol could immediately see Therese from a distance sitting by the outside tables with a bouquet of flowers. She was all dolled up wearing a nice floral skirt, a crew neck bodice under a beige cardigan. It had been months since Carol and Therese saw each other. The younger woman lit up at the sight of her elegant lover. They kissed. _I’ll let you have this before I let you go,_ Carol thought.

The pair ordered drinks and made small talk before Carol decided it was time.

“Therese, dear. There’s something I need to tell you. Would you care for a walk?”

The couple began to walk the strip of York Street.

“I know you’ve noticed that I’ve been a bit distant lately, and I’m sorry.” Carol apologized.

“I understand. Work and stuff… don’t worry about it.” Therese waved her off.

“How about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean, do you know what you want?” Carol was trying to find a way to start it.

“Want with what? I hardly knew what to order at the cafe.” Therese giggled. It didn’t occur to her that the talk they were having was serious.

“Do you know what you want with your life?”

“I’m a work in progress. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m sure art will be there… and you too. I mean, I’m still young. There’s no rush, right?”

Carol sighed. Therese didn’t have an inkling of what was to come. She pitied her. She wanted another way around to what she planned to do.

“Can you see us like this in the long run? Always apart? With you here in New York and I’m… somewhere else?”

“I could leave my life here and come with you, can I?”

This was Therese. Young and naive, Carol thought. She would do anything on a whim for her. It stung her that Therese didn’t have a full grasp of their situation.

“And what if along the way you eventually realize that it wasn’t the life you really wanted?” The woman asked averting her gaze from Therese.

They both stopped walking and Therese stared at Carol with pain in her eyes.

“What do you mean? Why are you asking me these questions, Carol?”

The older woman took a deep breath.

“Know that this means I want what’s best for you, okay?” Carol swallowed hard and held Therese’s hands. “I want for us to go our own separate ways.”

Therese let her hands fall from Carol’s grasp. She didn’t understand what was happening.

“Some people lose themselves in the course of loving someone too much.” Carol paused. “I think you haven’t found yourself yet, and I’m hindering you from doing that.”

Tears began streaming down from Therese’s face. She hoped she could disappear at that moment. She wasn’t having this conversation with Carol.

“You can’t let your life revolve around this relationship... around me.”

The older woman put an arm around her but Therese was fast to swat it away.

“Well I’m sorry that everything went to shit in this relationship because of me!” Therese raised her voice. “I did my part. I’m in between jobs. I have classes, and I still wanted to make time for you. And yeah, maybe I’m still a bit lost with life, but don’t pin this all on me.”

“Sure. Blame some on me. Blame it on distance. But this was what I was saying. You don’t know what you want with life!”

“Don't tell me that. I know what I fucking want, Carol!” Therese shouted.

“Then what do you want? Tell me.”

Therese fell silent for a while and wiped the tears away from her face. Carol gave her a look that seemed to say, _I thought so._ Therese looked down and picked on the hem of her cardigan. Carol turned away from her and proceeded to walk away. With her back turned against the young woman, she faintly heard Therese say,

“I want you.”

Carol snapped out of her daydream and found herself alone in the room brandishing a master’s work. She hadn’t revisited that memory for such a long time. She hadn’t noticed but tears were rushing down her cheeks. A museum staff approached her and said they were already closing and she had to leave.

Outside, the calmer incandescent lights sweeping the boulevards of Paris stretching out to the River Seine were not similar to the blistering lights of New York. Carol sighed. Her mind and her memories were traitors.

Why must everything have to remind her of Therese after hearing that name for the first time all over again? After all these years, after she thought she’d made her mind up on where her priorities lie, why did they come to haunt her? She started second guessing herself. Maybe she could’ve said: _I’ll help you find yourself. We’ll help each other grow. I’ll wait for you, Therese._

She looked at the gorgeous diamond on her left ring finger. It scintillated as the city lights hit it. Everything reminded her of Therese but out of all the things in the world, somehow, her engagement ring felt like it meant nothing to her.

* * *

Carol woke up from a terrible dream in the middle of the night. In her dream, she was back in New York City standing in a rather small island in the middle of an awfully busy intersection. In the midst of the chaos, she tried to get back to the sidewalk. She crossed the road but couldn’t. The cars, all varying from the famous yellow cabs of New York to the flashy sedans, honked louder as they were rushing past her. They could mindlessly run over her, leaving her instantaneously dead if she ran. It suddenly ached for her to breathe. Her heart was pounding so loud that she thought she would lose her mind. She clawed her hands inside her chest until she could get a hold of her restless heart just so it would keep still. Every time she pressed her bloody hand against it, all the cars and people walking in the pathways froze in time and space. She looked ahead. Across from her was Therese. Her angelic face looked so radiant. Her green eyes, though staring blankly at her, still held the promise of spring. She slowly walked towards her and smiled. But in the middle of her walk, she dropped her heart leaving a splatter of blood on the road. The traffic started moving in rapid speed again, chaos enveloped. A flash of light became bigger and brighter until… She woke up gasping for air. She gathered herself and got a glass of water. Disconcerted from her dream, she got up to write a letter for the woman in her dreams.

She began writing a draft:

 

> _16 May 2012_
> 
> _Paris, France._
> 
> ~~_Dearest,  
>  _ ~~_~~My dear Therese,~~  
>  _ _Therese,_
> 
> _Abby told me that you came looking for me in London. Such a grand gesture to cross the Atlantic does come from a romantic like you._ ~~_I appreciate the gesture._ ~~ _I would have appreciated the gesture, but please, do not look for me nor wait for me any longer. It’s time_ ~~_we both_ ~~ _you discover what the world has in store without us having to be attached. You’ll flourish_ ~~_with or_ ~~ _without me._
> 
> _This would be the last time I would have to explain myself:_ ~~_Dearest,_ ~~ _there are no accidents. Sooner or later I knew I had to choose, and I’m sorry I didn’t choose you. My career entails more than what I could have given you. In the end, we’re just two people coursing through life’s rivers in different directions_ ~~_and maybe we’ll meet again_ ~~ _~~.~~ Find yourself. Be satisfied in knowing that you are your own and no one else’s. Do not let our separation define you. _ _~~Know that I would give anything to make you happy.~~ _ _Know that your happiness is my own and I want nothing but that._
> 
> _There is love in holding, and there is love in letting go. Though I know it pains you time and again,_ _please_ ~~ _release me_~~ _try to understand where I’m coming from. Your love_ ~~ _is still valuable to me_~~ _will be valuable to someone. Someday._
> 
> ~~_With all my heart,  
>  _ ~~ ~~_All my love,  
>  _ ~~ _All the best,_
> 
> _Carol_

Carol rewrote it on a clean sheet of paper and addressed it to Therese’s hostel in London without writing down a return address. Unbeknownst to her, Therese had already moved out without leaving a place for her mail to be forwarded to. As Carol slipped the letter through an envelope, she heard her companion shuffling in the background all of a sudden. She inserted the letter in a paperback and slid the paperback ever so casually in her purse below the desk. She would send it first thing in the morning. She returned to bed hoping that her companion didn’t notice that she was gone. But he did.

“Carol?” The man’s voice was deep and sleep-ridden. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I just had to list down a couple of things. I didn’t want to let ideas slip out of my mind.”

 _Yeah, right._ She thought to herself.

“Ideas for what, honey? The wedding?” The man asked.

“Well… uhm… yeah. What else could it be for?” Carol was a lawyer. A liar. She was cool and collected on the outside, but she felt as if her heart would throb out of her chest being caught of something she was hiding. She slid back into duvets, beside the man she now wasn’t sure she loved.

Carol’s heart was inside her beating profusely. She knew it. This wasn’t a dream. She was wide awake yet her heart felt like it was beating outside of her, for someone else. It wasn’t beating for the person lying on her hotel bed nor was it beating for her. The human heart was a traitor indeed.

Although she couldn’t make sense of it now, Carol’s heart was still beating for no one but Therese.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep tearing out the characters and I feel bad about it so... to make amends, I will simultaneously post another update in which we see a happy Therese. I will put it up as soon as I can-- most probably after my update of "A Sunday Kind of Love" for fluffy feels if you feel like that wouldn't be enough bandage over the wounds. 
> 
> P.S. I do not have any affiliations to science so I apologize if I had lapses on the heart facts.


	4. Give Your Tears to the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Abby's suggestion, Therese stays in London-- but longer than what they both had presumed or planned. Therese takes up the sights and translates her emotions into art as a means of healing. With the support of Abby and a new friendship she finds in Dannie, Therese gradually recovers from the break up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to this song on loop while writing this chapter. It's called "I and Love and You" by the Avett Brothers.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrsgIEBwIZM

In the first break of morning light radiating upon the city of London, Therese began her day with a light helping of a cup of tea and buttered toast. She stood by the kitchen counter and noticed clear blue skies outside of the hostel. It was such a rarity since the skies upon the city were always cloaked with the color and sentiments of melancholy. Therese longed for this day to come. Spring was writing its epilogue and summer was fast ushering in.

The drastic change in the weather affected the way Therese’s thoughts streamed. Time flew fast, she thought, yet her mind seemed to be stuck in an agonizing loop with the occurrences of the past four years;

It had been four years.

Four years that seemed so long ago when she met Carol and fell in love almost immediately. She was so young before, so naive. Even now, she felt like she held onto her twenty-three year old self, the version of her that was all heart struck to the gorgeous blonde woman she met at Prince Street back in New York.

It had been three years.

Three years since Carol came back here in London. It was then when she had promised she’d love her even with the ocean that came between them. Therese was, at that time, the type of person who laid everything she had and owned on Carol’s feet in order for her to see that she was worth keeping. How utterly stupid was it for her to think of love that way? She pondered. Love wasn’t supposed to swallow you whole and then spit you out with nothing. If ships were made of promises, theirs was sunk to the bottom of the ocean long ago.

It had been two years.

Two staggering years since they broke up. It dawned on Therese that she was never kind to herself in those two years. Therese took herself for granted and she knew it. She caught sight of her faint reflection by the window and how she looked so different now. It seemed to her that she didn’t matter all those years. The battle with the self was one that wasn’t easily won. Poising one’s self to be both the protagonist and the antagonist at the same time didn’t make sense, but for some reason, Therese understood it. The foremost person who needed to be kind to her wasn’t, and she felt like she wanted to make up for all of it now.

 _What was it about today?_ Therese thought while taking a sip of her tea. She watched the people pacing through the sidewalks seemingly without a care in the world. Therese wondered if they too were recognizing the shift in the air, but maybe it was all in her head. The people were probably used to the fickle weather that they refused to see anything about it that seemed out of the ordinary.

“Terry!” The young woman’s attention was called. Therese was a bit startled and was snapped out of her daydream. “You seem deep in thought.”

Therese gave the young man a half-smile and returned her gaze back at the passersby.

“Do you feel it, Dannie?” Therese asked him. Dannie was the owner of the new hostel she moved into and he was about to leave after dropping by a few toiletries for the bathrooms.

“Feel what?” Dannie wiped his pair of glasses with the seam of his shirt.

“The shift in the air.”

“Summer?” Dannie paused. “You have to brace yourself for English summers, mate. They’re barmy. It’s not always going to be as pleasant as it is today so enjoy it as much as you can.”

Therese presumptions were proven. The unpredictability of London’s weather was nothing to the locals. Will she perhaps get used to it too?

“Any plans after your shift’s done?” The young man asked her as he slung his bag on his back.

“I’m heading to Covent Garden to do some sketches.”

“Sounds like a plan. Show them to me when I see you?”

Therese nodded.

“I’ll be heading out now. Cheerio!”

As soon as Dannie shut the door, Therese propped herself up at the kitchen counter, getting a slightly better view of the street below. The small ray of sunlight peeked through and warmed her hands cupped on her drink. She closed her eyes for a moment. For her, the shift in the air was so palpable and no one else could tell her otherwise. It was as if she could taste it, as if she could taste happiness on the tip of her tongue once she said those very words.

_Maybe it’s time. It’s time to let go._

* * *

  **London. June 2012.**

Therese moved out to a different hostel right before Carol’s letter for her had arrived. She never got the chance to read it and maybe, it was better off for her having not to have a glimpse of that letter or knowing it existed for that matter. Therese, for the first week of her stay in London, had seemed to be a lost cause. The surroundings were new to her, but it did nothing to break her out of her forlorned spell. But she gratefully found a friend in the quirky owner of the hostel, Dannie McElroy. Therese and Dannie got along instantly.Therese liked him very much. He was easy-going, smart and he liked to philosophize the art she made. He believed that everything had a deeper reason to everything-- which always intrigued Therese. Dannie was really kind too. Knowing what Therese had gone through for the past years, he took pity on her. He thought of a way for her to cut off some of her expenses while getting to appreciate and have fun in the city he calls home. In exchange for free meals and lodging, he asked Therese to help out at the hostel or the pub he owned just across the street. Therese recalled the time when she accidentally opened up about her break up with Carol. Dannie only had this to say:

“So what really brought you to the bustling city of London, Terry?” He asked casually.

“Do you want the long version or the short one?”

“Whichever pleases you. I’m all ears.”

“I’m here to get myself together after a horrible break up. I’ve been in a shitstorm for awhile… and by ‘awhile’ I meant for years now.” Therese laughed at how preposterous she sounded.

“Why London? Why not go on some safari in Africa? Or go trekking in some jungle? Or you know, just move to a nearby town?” Dannie had a tendency to exaggerate.

“I actually wanted to win back my ex. She lives here.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t work out?”

Therese nodded.

“Sometimes when you have a breakdown, a breakthrough follows.”

Therese blankly stared at Dannie. He had a point, but she couldn’t fathom what the latter meant.

“I’ve been breaking down for years now. I don’t know if a breakthrough will ever come.”

Dannie crossed his arms and laid back further to his seat.

“You’ve survived all your worst days haven’t you?”

Therese nodded.

“What makes you think you won’t survive this one?”

Therese didn’t actually know. She had no reason to give that would sound sensible to Dannie. She shrugged.

“You know, the odd thing about moving on is one day you just wake up and feel like there’s nothing holding you back anymore.”

 _Was this it?_ Therese contemplated. What this the one Dannie had told her about? _One day, in an inexplicable moment, the hurt just dissipates. Without explanation. Without a trace._ Therese heard Dannie’s voice echo inside her head. She said Carol’s name over and over again, and it didn’t ache as much as before. She would bring up Carol’s serene face back to memory, and all she could think of was a beautiful woman whom she had the privilege, although just briefly, to fall in love with.

 _Is this how it feels like to move on?_ Therese pondered.

Carol filled chapters of her life, chapters that perhaps that she would read over and over again until she memorized every word, every metaphor by heart. But part of her now felt like turning page the over. She hadn’t felt this way. She wasn’t ready to let go before. But right now, she felt like she was ready.

Therese had stayed in London for almost two months now-- more than she had actually planned. Amidst the crazy weather, she had gotten used to the place and quite enjoyed it. Abby had called to check up on Therese on one July night.

“Therese?”

“Hey, Abby!” The young woman sounded cheerful and Abby was surprised.

“Well, well, well… this is something new.” Abby grinned. “How’ve you been?”

“Better, actually. Thanks for telling me to stick around here. The weather’s something I’m trying to get used to, but… it’s definitely something new.”

Abby knew she was at fault for suggesting to Therese to stay for a bit longer in London. When she said stick around, she didn’t mean two months or so. She was afraid that her friend might actually not want to come back to New York anymore.

“I thought you’d be back here a month ago? Aren’t you excited to come back here?”

“The thing is…” There was hesitation in Therese’s voice. “I kinda want to stay here just for a month more.”

“A month more?” Abby’s tone rose. “What about your classes and your job here?”

“I’ve actually informed the university weeks ago that I was dropping out and I told my boss I won’t return to my job anymore.” Therese sounded nonchalant.

This was typical Therese, Abby thought, young and indecisive. She would do things out on a whim without thinking things through. Therese’s apathy drove Abby crazy.

“Have you thought of that carefully?” Abby managed to say while keeping herself calm.

“Uhhh… no.” Therese scratched her head. “But... it seems logical for now.”

“Logical? You didn’t even think it through, Belivet!” Her frustration slipped out.

“I’ll find some other thing when I get back there. Don’t worry.”

Abby felt like she had everything to worry about. She took a deep breath and tried once more.

“When do you intend to return to New York anyway?”

“I’m not sure about that yet.” Abby sighed audibly. Therese sensed the annoyance in Abby’s tone. She was glad that woman was just on the other end of the phone, else, she was pretty sure she’d be dragged by Abby’s bare hands back to New York.

“What about your finances? Do you still have enough money to stay there?”

“I met a guy...” Therese began.

“A sugar daddy? A sugar mama? I knew it!” Abby cut her off. She definitely knew how to lighten up the atmosphere in tensed situations. She enjoyed badgering Therese for preferring the company of people older than her. It was an inside joke between the two of them. Therese played along.

“Do you think I’d replace you too soon? Well, fuck you for thinking that way, Abby.”

Abby found it hilarious every time Therese cursed. Her angelic features didn’t help at all. For her, it was such an irony. Abby bursted out to into a great fit of laughter.

“Anyway, I moved out from the previous hostel I was staying in and met Dannie. He owns the hostel I stay in now and a small pub just across from it. He says I can stay and have meals for free just as long as I help out in the pub and the hostel for four hours a day. I’m doing menial jobs like changing the linens when a guest checks out or I’d fix the tables and chairs when the pub’s about to open. I could still art in my free time. It’s a good deal.. and I think it’s not illegal is it?”

Abby paused and considered it for a while.

“I have to get back to you on that, but I won’t be saving your foolish ass in immigration if it turns out to be illegal and you get caught.”

Therese smiled. Abby always tried to sound like she was a badass, but she was always soft for Therese.

“You and I both know you will.” Therese sing-sang.

“Shut up, Belivet!” Abby recognized her friend’s teasing tone, but they both know the truth. Abby will get Therese out of any trouble. She had unofficially taken Therese as her little sister. But sometimes, she just spoiled her a little too much.

“I’m happy you finally got that head of yours out of your ass.”

“Hey! Stop being mean, Abby.”

“All right. Geez. I’m just glad to hear you being all cheery and stuff. Don’t keep doing stupid stuff.  Keep me updated, Belivet.”

“I will.”

* * *

 Therese spent her days in London hanging around at the stations, the outdoor markets, the parks, and the river Thames when she didn’t help out at the hostel or the pub. The street life and the gracious architecture gave life to her art. This was all that mattered to her. She turned the most banal of places into beautiful translations of art. She didn’t mind sitting at the sidewalks for hours. Some people would stop by and watch her draw or paint. She didn’t mind. She was always focused with her work at hand. But there was a recurring character in her watercolor sketches. It was a blonde woman unmistakably resembling Carol. Whether it was a blonde head drowned in a crowd of people, or the lone person in a downcast landscape of Central London, the woman was omnipresent, a lingering figure in Therese’s subconscious. It appeared odd to her that her hands still remember the features of her once lover, but the only difference now was they seemed to fade in the background, a huge blur in the grand scheme of things. This was her means of healing and it was so discernible to her that she had never been in her most creative until that time. At night before heading to bed, all she could think about was the next piece she’d make, or where she’d be going to, or what new materials she could use. Anything that allowed her to express her thoughts in art was kind of like an obsession, something that danced within her skin and stained it. Although Carol completely inhabited her art, Therese somehow felt her feelings fleeting through, washing off with the colors and the strokes like a process of emotional osmosis. In her pieces, Carol was taking her last breath as her muse. These would be the last time that she’d breathe life to her, her last heave to say goodbye. Therese felt as if she was watching the death of a star, combusting, expanding-- her past and her emotions shifting into another form. The death of a star was not always tragic. Memories of them hung in the heavens as breathtaking and vibrant nebulas. That was how Therese rendered Carol in her art-- a grand and jubilant finale in a long, sullen symphony.

It was around August when Therese finally decided she wanted to come back home. She stowed away just enough money for an economy plane ticket back home. Although she’d be left with nothing when she got back to New York, she knew her new found spirit and optimism will help her get back to her feet. On her last night in London, she preferred to stay in and recheck her things before her flight the next night. Dannie came by the hostel around quarter past midnight. He found Therese in the common room writing something on the guest log book.

“Hey, Terry! All good here?” Dannie asked it out of habit, but more of well-meaning for Therese as if to ask if she’s okay.

“Yeah. All good.” Therese responded nonchalantly.  

Dannie grabbed two cans of cold beer from the refrigerator and sat across her. She opened one of the cans and slid it to hers.

“Going home tomorrow eh? Such a strange feeling isn’t it when you’ve gotten used to London.” Dannie seemed to know how to exactly put Therese’s thoughts into words without him prying too much.

“It is. It seems like I’m a different person now.”  
“In this moment? Tomorrow? We won’t be the same people. We never really are.”

Therese smiled, a knowing smile that she’d miss this about Dannie, the way he made everything sound philosophical.

“What’s next for the prolific Therese Belivet when she’s back in New York?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I’m taking it one step at a time.” Therese took a quick swig of her beer.

“It’s bollocks that no one’s discovered your art yet. You’re extremely talented, Terry.”

“Psssh, you’re just saying that, man.” Therese punched Dannie lightly.

“No, I’m serious. You’ll make it big someday. You know what. I’ll buy some of your art so I can have a remembrance from you before you become way too famous. £100 for one of your paintings. Whaddaya say?”

“That’s too much.”

“I won’t take any less. Consider it a boost to your art career in the future.” Dannie raised his can of beer. “An investor, is it?”

“Nah. You can have all of it for free. Consider it as a gift… from a friend.”

Dannie eyes opened wide. He was certain that Therese was just kidding, but something said otherwise.

“Wait here.” Therese rushed to her room to get all of the things she’s worked on for the past months. Back in the common room, she spread out seven 24x36 sheets of paper on the coffee table.

“Why though? Why would you just give ‘em out for free?”

“It’s a part of me I want to say goodbye to. They’re my best so far,” Therese paused looking at the blonde woman in the sketches. “But I can’t take them back to New York with me.”

Dannie stared at her pensively. Sometimes, he was absolutely sure of what Therese was thinking, but other times like now, he just couldn’t understand her. It was probably the complex way artist processed things.

“What do you call this collection or series you have here?”

“Time of Waiting in London. I don’t know. Something probably like that.”

“These are all incredible!” Dannie perused the sheets. The washed off colors of urban London were incarnated right in front of him. He noticed the blonde figure in the pieces, and he immediately knew what Therese meant with her words just a while ago--the part of her she wanted to say goodbye to. He knew Therese loved Carol deeply, and seeing those pieces would be a constant reminder to her of how she meant so much. Carol meant everything to her, he knew. At the same time, it felt like a burden for Dannie to keep them. Therese said they were the best she’s made so far. Shouldn’t she be trying to get them into galleries or something? He thought.

“They’re all yours, my friend.” Therese declared.

“Are you sure you’re leaving all of them to me?” Dannie checked with her once more.

“I’m sure.”

He grinned. He was very grateful for them.

“Mind if I post them in the pub?”

“No. Not at all.”

Dannie seemed as if he was ready to shed a tear studying the watercolor sketches and rolling them back up. Dannie suddenly enveloped Therese in a tight embrace.

“If you’re ever around again, you have a home here in London, you hear?”

Therese returned the same intense hug. There was something inside her that lit up, something that wished Dannie’s projections would be true of a bright future ahead of her. Therese wished someone would see something special in her artworks like Dannie did.

* * *

  **New York City. August 2012.**

The cold breeze rushed through the illuminated streets of New York City as Abby dashed along the rain slicked roads to get to JFK. She had stayed up late to pick up Therese in the airport. Therese’s plane touched down to New York at around quarter past two in the morning. Though there weren’t as many people in the airport, Abby was there excitedly waving her hands when she caught sight of Therese. Abby was usually the type of person who hardly showed emotions other than indifference and sarcasm. But it had been almost four months since Abby had last seen Therese, and she was more than ecstatic that her friend finally came back. Therese’s hair grew longer. Her then pixie cut was now extended just above her shoulder. She gained a bit of weight too which looked good on her. Therese looked radiant.

“Damn! Look who we have here!”

Therese smiled.

“Did the English ladies tell you you looked like crap that’s why you got yourself together? You look great.” Abby twirled Therese around.

“I missed you, you asshole.” Therese slapped Abby’s arm.

“Welcome back home, Belivet.” The older woman wrapped Therese in a tight embrace. Therese knew that rang true. New York, the city that she once shared with Carol would always be home. Though Carol had left, Therese knew that this was definitely where her heart was.

 _You know those waking moments when you just know that you’ll never be the same anymore?_ Dannie’s voice rang in Therese’s mind as the brisk midnight air blew through Abby’s car windows in the restless boulevards of New York City. Abby glanced back at her beaming as she drove. Therese returned the same smile to her and leaned back in her seat. She looked up at the clear night sky, stars flittering above her. _Without a clear explanation of why you feel that way, you just know something great’s about to happen to you. It’s like the universe’s way of saying: you matter._ After years that Therese felt like she had lost herself, here she was in the middle of the winding roads knowing that she had a place somewhere with her heart inscribed in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on Saturday night EST. Yep, two updates this week. :)


	5. Victims of Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese is back in NY a bit better and happier than we last saw her. Everything seems to be smooth sailing until she accidentally finds out about Carol’s wedding. She confronts Abby about it and almost relapses. In the midst of this setback, Therese meets Genevieve Cantrell, a talented and alluring violinist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to follow suit with the description of book!Genevieve just so you guys know. And… I kinda imagined her to be Brie Larson.
> 
> This is the song that Genevieve plays in the event. Please do give it a listen. It's "Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini Op. 43, Variation 18" by Sergei Rachmaninoff  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZ_z90_8rWo

**25 August 2012**

On a rainy Saturday morning, Therese had been preoccupied with working on an installation piece in her small studio in Brooklyn. The wistful atmosphere that the rain spawned fueled much of her prolificity. She absolutely loved this type of day. In the backdrop, she was playing some sounds alternating from 70’s rock to contemporary indie folk. She sang along with them gleefully. As she was about to finish constructing the pedestal for her main piece, her phone started ringing. She wiped her hands down her pants and hurriedly picked her phone up not looking at the caller I.D.

“Hello?” Therese greeted cheerfully.

There was just silence on the other line.

“Can you hear me?”

Therese tried with another greeting.

Still. No answer.

“Well, you’re wasting my time if you’re not going to say a single word!”

Therese cut the call off and turned back to her work space. She was mumbling something under her breath. Being taken out of her focus irritated her a great deal especially when it was all for nothing.

Suddenly, her phone started ringing again. This time, someone answers.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Belivet! You have bunch of mail and packages here in my office. I’ve been keeping them for you when you were away. When are you coming by to pick them up?”

“Most probably on Wednesday. Will that be fine? Thanks for keeping them, Abby!  I’m currently working on something and I’m just too lazy to come up to Manhattan right now.”

“Sure! No problem. I’ll give a word to my secretary for you. I won’t be around in the afternoon on that day.”

“Alright. But one more thing.” Therese felt the need to ask.

“Yeah?”

“Were you trying to call me a while ago?”

“No, I wasn’t. Why?”

Therese surmised that someone was just probably playing a trick on her with the phone call a while ago.

“No reason.” Therese attempted to sound casual.

“Okay… Have a good day!”

“You too.”

Therese toned down the volume of her speakers then turned around to get back to her work. Her phone rang one more time.  
“Hello?”

“...”

“Who is this?”

The person on the other line wasn’t answering again. Therese was getting extremely agitated. _Why isn’t this asshole speaking?_ Therese thought.

“Stop wasting my time, damn it!”

Therese cut the call off when a familiar voice suddenly came on the line.

“Therese, I…”

Once Therese heard the voice, her heart raced. She felt it pounding ruthlessly as if it was ready to implode. Checking her call logs, she noticed the phone number had a different country code. She quickly redialed the number but failed to reconnect with the caller. She did try multiple times to no avail.

Therese knew who it was on the other line.

* * *

**29 August 2012**

It was six in the evening when Therese packed up her art pieces displayed in Prince Street. A lavender sky hovered over New York City. It was quite a good day for the young artist. A Canadian couple bought three of the watercolor sketches she made a week ago. She also sold the installation art she had been working on for the weekend in an auction in the internet-- enough for her to pay the rent for another month. She gleefully strapped the remaining art pieces in a basket at the back of her motorcycle and headed to Lexington Avenue to pick up the things Abby had asked her to. Upon entering Abby’s office, she greeted her secretary.

“Hey, Mark! Abby told me I’d be picking up some of my stuff here.”

“Yeah. Just take it from her desk. It’s the box and envelope on top.”

“Alright, thanks!”

Abby’s office was less than spic-and-span. There were so many documents lying around and so many books scattered on her desk. She maneuvered her way to Abby’s desk and tinkered with the objects on top of it before taking her belongings. The nameplate read: _Abigail Gerhard, Senior Partner._ She kept in mind to make fun of Abby’s age in relation to the word ‘senior’ in her position when they meet. Sometimes, Therese just had a shallow sense of humor. A framed photo of Abby with the Versailles as the backdrop was placed at the corner of her desk. Beside it was a bonsai tree which fascinated Therese. She wondered if it was real or not so she began poking at it. She felt Mark’s gaze on her so she stopped. Therese finally lifted the box containing her belongings but a few of Abby’s documents fell to the floor. Therese frantically gathered them when she abruptly stopped dead on her tracks. She saw an envelope addressed to Abby, but what caught her attention was whom the letter came from. _Carolyn Ross. Carol,_ Therese mouthed the name.

“Do you need help, Miss Belivet?” Mark asked.

“I’m good. Some stuff just fell. Don’t worry.”

The young man nodded and left the room.

When Mark wasn’t looking she studied the envelope further. It was postmarked last month and it was already ripped at the side. No one would know that she looked at what was inside it. A cream-colored piece of paper with a lace design on the side was peeking from the ripped corner. She took it out and it read:

 

 

 

> _The honor of your presence_
> 
> _is requested at the marriage of_
> 
>  
> 
> **Hargess Foster Aird**
> 
> and
> 
> **Carolyn Amelia Ross**
> 
>  
> 
> Saturday, the twenty-fifth of August
> 
> two thousand twelve
> 
> at half past four in the afternoon
> 
>  
> 
> _The Lanesborough_
> 
> _Hyde Park Corner_
> 
> _London SW1X 7TA_
> 
> _United Kingdom_
> 
>  
> 
> Reception immediately to follow
> 
> on the same venue
> 
>  
> 
> We have reserved 1 seat for you

 

At the back of the invitation was a photograph of Carol with presumably the man named Hargess Foster Aird. The couple were holding hands and the man was gazing at the dashing, smiling bride-to-be. Therese felt her eyes welling up with tears. After all this time, with just one damn invitation, she felt her world crumbling down again. Seeing Carol smiling in the photo, it dawned on her that she had a life far from her-- a life where she was happy without her. She wasn’t and wouldn’t be the reason behind that smile anymore. In a moment, all the dreams she built up around Carol flashed through her eyes. _That should’ve been me._ Therese thought. She imagined herself meeting Carol’s gray eyes as she walked down the aisle, seeing her waiting at the end of it with her white dress. There’s nothing more heart-shattering than seeing the one you’ve built your world with only to see them building that life with someone else.

She looked at the date once more. August 25th. _It all made sense now,_ Therese thought. The anonymous calls she got last Saturday were from Carol if she wasn’t mistaken. What did Carol want to say to her? Did she want to say that she still loved her? Therese clung to that hope, but why didn’t Abby tell her about this. Why did she keep this from her? She hastily dialed Abby’s number, but the woman wasn’t answering. Therese tried again and Abby finally picked up.

“Hey, Beli...”

“Did you know?” Therese spoke before Abby’s words were out.

“Wait. What? What did I know?”

“Oh, just that...” Therese paced back and forth in Abby’s office with consternation painted on her face. “Carol got married?”

Abby fell silent.

“I… I’m at a fundraiser. I can’t talk right now.”

“Well, fuck you, Abby! Fuck you for not telling me!”

Abby turned off her phone immediately. She knew it spelled trouble. Therese cursed once more underneath her breath and her tears streamed even more. She pulled herself together and wiped her tears with the back of her hands. She marched her way back to Abby’s secretary.

“Mark! Where’s Abby?” The young woman’s voice was stern.

“She’s at a fundraising event, Miss Belivet. Why?” The young man was startled with Therese tone.

“Where is that fundraising event?” Therese grabbed the young man by his tie almost seemingly threatening to strangle him. Even with Therese’s tiny figure, she managed to insinuate intimidation. Mark threw his hands up in surrender and Therese let him go.

“Here.” Mark wrote an address on a slip of paper. Therese snatched it from his hands and read it. It was somewhere in the Riverside Drive. It won’t be far, Therese thought. She left all of her belongings in Abby’s office and rode her motorcycle to the location.

 

Therese finally arrived in front of a magnificent mansion with ivy crawling up the facade. The vast courtyard was packed with luxurious cars parked on its driveway. People entering the home were donned in tuxedos and elegant gowns. She stopped for a while and looked at how she was dressed. Therese was wearing a black leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans and combat boots-- not exactly appropriate for the situation. She took off her helmet, shook her head and combed her hair through her fingers. She tried to casually stride in the front door but she was immediately stopped by the doorman.

“Excuse me, miss, do you have an invitation for this event?” His voice was condescending.

“I’m with someone inside. Abigail Gerhard?”

“Miss Gerhard…” The doorman browsed the guest list. “Ah, yes! Her name’s here but it appears that she’s coming here alone tonight.” He emphasized the word ‘alone.’

“She might have forgotten…” Therese tried to pretend that was true, but the man just looked at her judgingly from head to toe absolutely knowing that she wasn’t invited.

“I’m sorry, miss, but you can’t come in.”

“But I need to see Abigail Gerhard. It’s an emergency! Can I just go in for a second?”

The doorman shook his head and began to entertain the other guests. Therese tried once more but she was just ignored.

“Gerhard!!!” Therese began to scream. “Abby fucking Gerhard!!!”

The doorman seemed ready to call security and Therese was on the verge of throwing a tantrum when suddenly a beautiful blonde lady touched her shoulder and dragged her away. She had been watching Therese as soon as she arrived.

“I’ll get you in just stop squawking,” she whispered.

 _Squawking?_ Therese was offended. She totally wasn’t raising her voice like a wild animal… or maybe she was? The woman turned around to check if security had their hawkeyes on Therese. They weren’t anymore. The young woman and Therese went around and entered at the back porch. Therese gazed at her companion whose arm was snuggly linked to hers. _My god,_ she said to herself, _she’s gorgeous._ The woman had long blonde hair, a prominent jawline, crimsoned lips and radiant auburn eyes. Her black cocktail dress hugged her figure in all the right corners. For a moment, Therese forgot how furious she was. She just wanted to gawk and sketch the gorgeous lady right at that moment if only she could. The young blonde was carrying what seemed to be a case for a musical instrument on her other hand. She turned to look at Therese but had mistakenly thought of her looking at her cleavage.

“Eyes should be looking front, beautiful,” the fair-haired lady remarked.

“Oh no! You have it all wrong. I just noticed your…” Therese was still looking down at the case.

The woman cocked an eyebrow. Therese knew it wasn’t helping so she just shut her mouth.

“So…” the other woman began, “is Abby fucking Gerhard a girlfriend who broke your heart that’s why you were so desperate to get in?”

Therese thought of saying that it was none of her business, but the lady was doing her a favor so she decided for a kinder response.

“Abby fucking Gerhard is anything but that.”

The blonde chuckled, eventually a beautiful smile lined her lips. Therese was instantly captivated. There was another doorman at the back porch. The woman introduced them as musicians for the band and they were immediately let in. The two passed through what seemed like a maze-like route--through a hall, the kitchen, to another hall and into the dining area where people pooled.

“Well, we’re going to set up. If you cause trouble and someone asked who brought you in, it wasn’t me. Okay?”

The blonde gave her a wink. Therese lingered at her for a moment before she disappeared in the crowd. Once she snapped herself out of her trance, she began scouring the mansion for Abby. She began at the dining area, but no luck. She went to the foyer where there were two grand winding staircases. On the corner of her eye, she spotted Abby leaning by the banister. Her anger rose once more.

“Gerhard!!!” Therese shouted and everyone looked towards Therese’s direction. The young woman was tactless. As soon as Abby saw Therese, she came running after her.

“Shit. Don’t make a scene, Belivet!” Abby held the younger woman’s arm very tight.

“You did know, didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Therese’s voice was so loud it seemed to echo across the hall. Most of the people were still staring at her bewildered. Therese shoved the wedding invitation to Abby. The woman’s eyes shot wide. She bit her lip and shook her head. She pulled Therese aside from the crowd so as not to catch more attention.

“Where did you get that?” Abby’s face was painted with utter shock.

“Found it on your trashy office.” Therese was being childish again. The older woman took a deep breath and gathered herself.

“Listen, Therese. I did it to protect you.” Abby tried to put her arm on Therese but she was quick to swat it away.

“Protect me? I thought you were on my side, Abby! How could you?” Therese broke into tears. “How could you not tell me Carol got married?” She told herself she wouldn’t cry in front of Abby anymore, but she couldn’t help it. Letting those words slip out her tongue felt like a pang stinging in her chest. The love of her life was married to someone else.

“I didn’t want to tell you because seeing you happy and getting your shit together meant everything. You finally have a life that’s not constantly revolving around her. Can’t you see?” Abby’s voice was tinged with care and concern. That always did Therese in. Therese crossed her arms like a petulant child and averted her gaze from Abby.

“This is what I’m scared of, Belivet. You’re doing so well right now but the second you hear a thing about Carol, you fuck your life over as if you don’t mean a thing to yourself. I’m tired of seeing you hurt. Aren’t you?” Abby touched Therese’s arm.

“If it means anything to you, I didn’t go. It didn’t occur to me for a second to attend her wedding with whoever that Hargess person is. I mean, what kind of a fuck boy name is Hargess?”

Therese stifled a smile and rolled her eyes. Abby grinned at her and grabbed her in for a tight hug.

“As much as I’m tired of you and your crazy shenanigans, I can’t let you turn your back on me.”

Therese hoped she could be a better friend to Abby. She really wished she could just stop being so angsty and broody all the time.

“You’re already here so might as well enjoy the party, right? Let’s go get you a drink.” She grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters passing by when they went back to the foyer. “I need to talk someone while I’m here. You know I’m all business. I’ll meet you at the courtyard at quarter to ten, okay?”

Therese nodded.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Belivet!”

Therese was bound to keep her promise to Abby. Avoiding confrontation, she feasted over the expensive buffet laid out in the dining area instead. How often could she eat these stuff? Caviar was topped in almost all of the dishes. She hated them so she set them aside. She wasn’t sure she’d enjoy being rich if she had to eat caviar all the time. After having a hefty meal, she walked around the garden and pondered for a bit. She hadn’t let the fact of Carol being a Mrs of someone unfold in her mind yet. Should she be happy for Carol? What did Carol like about Hargess? Knowing Carol, she was a tough woman to impress. What made him so special that Carol knew that she’d want to spend the rest of her life with that man? Therese speculated, but it seared her with jealousy. _Carolyn Ross Aird._ She said the name in her mind. She should have just impaled herself with a spear. It would have hurt less, she was certain. Did Carol love him? Did he love Carol as much as she did? _Probably not,_ she said to herself. No one loved her as much or more than she did.

Therese wandered back inside the mansion hunting down another glass of champagne. When she found one, she walked around aimlessly with daggers of stares thrown her way, presumably because of the way she was dressed. She ended up in the massive living room filled with luxurious ornaments. One perhaps would be more expensive than all of her belongings combined. In the corner of the room was a string quartet and a pianist. The small band comprised of four men and a woman whom she recognized as the one who let her crash in the stupid fundraiser. A crowd gathered around the band, applauding after they played a piece. The blonde stood up and began to spoke.

“James and I,” she turned to the pianist, “are going to serenade you with Rachmaninoff to end the night. It’s the eighteenth variation of his Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. It’s originally just for piano but we’re throwing in a violin arrangement.”

The blonde woman rested her violin on her shoulder and the pianist began with a soft and haunting legato. A few measures in, the violin began humming the melody. Therese moved closer to get a better sight of them. The gorgeous violinist had her eyes shut the whole time. The captivating melody of the strings filled Therese’s heart with so much emotion. She felt the musician’s passion overflowing in each of the notes as if the strings sang of love with her body swaying at the intense build up to the grandiose chorus. The tune spilled out in the evening air but Therese felt like the woman was playing for her and only her. As the piece approached a transcendent conclusion, the violinist opened her eyes and the first person she made eye contact with was a starry-eyed Therese. The crowd roared with an applause and Therese quickly joined in. The two women locked eyes and the blonde shot Therese a half smile. The musicians took a bow and a crowd approached the beautiful violinist to Therese’s dismay. She wanted to talk to her but couldn’t. Just as she was about to give up hope, the sought-after woman approached her, leaving the men and women giving her endless praises.

“Did you find Abby fucking Gerhard?”

Therese giggled. The blonde walked towards her as if she hadn’t given a marvelous performance just moments ago.

“I did. But… Wow. That was… breathtaking. I haven’t seen or heard anything like it.”

“Thanks!” She replied as she touched Therese’s shoulder.

“I mean it. That was truly incredible!”

“Genevieve Cantrell.” She extended her arm.

“Therese Belivet.”

“Why’d you let me in, Genevieve?” Therese asked following her companion back to where the band was.

“Oh please, call me Gen. Genevieve sounds too formal.” The young blonde was now carefully stowing away her violin. She held it so delicately. Therese couldn’t help but deem the blonde's hands to be beautiful… and how she might want to hold it in her own once more. “You’re asking why I let you in?”

Therese nodded.

“Well, Therese Belivet…” Genevieve stood up carrying her violin case. “I honestly let you in for no reason.”

Therese was puzzled.

“I mean, I thought you were hot with your motorcycle and all…” Therese blushed at how straightforward Genevieve was but she hadn’t let the blonde finish yet. “until you began shouting.” Genevieve chuckled. 

“Would you like to grab a drink or are you going somewhere else tonight?”

“I… I’m headed somewhere with a friend, I’m afraid.”

The gorgeous young lady seemed disappointed.

“Alright. Well, you have a good evening. It was pleasure meeting you, Therese Belivet.” Genevieve turned around and talked with her bandmates. Therese left the living room and headed to the courtyard. She saw Abby leaning on her luxury sedan smoking a cigarette. The woman offered her one and lit it for her.

“Didn’t cause any more trouble?”

“Nah. Didn’t feel like it.” Therese drew out a puff of smoke.

She caught sight of Genevieve sauntering down the entrance of the mansion. The blonde shot her a smile and continued chatting with one of her bandmates. Abby saw the exchange and addressed it immediately,

“Well… I’m appalled that you didn’t cause trouble tonight. Cantrell, right there” she pointed towards the beautiful young woman’s direction, “is some prodigy in the New York Philharmonic.”

“Wait. What? How do you know her?”

“I’ve always subscribed to the Philharmonic’s performances every season. She’s the youngest concertmaster they’ve ever had. With that talent and gorgeous face, she’d sell out tickets fast at the Geffen Hall I’m telling you.”

Genevieve and her bandmates began putting away their instruments at the trunk of a car. Before getting in, Genevieve waved at Therese.

“But I’m not ready for anything new.” Therese said glumly. This was one of her problems. She couldn’t get herself to meet anybody new because she had always been hung up on Carol, but that might change soon.

“Bitch, did I say that you’re going to marry her now? You’re just going to ask her out and talk.” Abby gazed at Therese, noticing that the two ladies were still locking eyes. “Jesus, you two have been ogling at each other like lovesick puppies. Just go!” Abby shoved Therese towards the direction where the car was parked. Therese walked sheepishly towards it and knocked on the window.

“Uhm… Gen? My friend changed her mind. She’s headed home. Would you still like to go grab that drink with me?” Genevieve gazed at Abby who was now entering her car and about to leave.

“Are we taking your bike?” She inquired.

“I guess so, if that’s okay with you.” Therese knew Genevieve was wearing a dress and it might be uncomfortable for her. The woman got out of the car and grabbed her violin. She was a bit hesitant at first but when Therese snuggly placed her helmet on Genevieve’s head, the blonde seemed to be up for it.

“Where to?” Genevieve asked with a gentle smile on her face. _Maybe this was it,_ Therese thought. This was what she needed to forget Carol, to get away and rid herself from everything that reminded her of how much she had loved Carol. The blonde beauty warmly gazed at her with her piercing auburn eyes and it made Therese say,

“Anywhere with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I know I have to apologize immensely for this chapter. I am a strong Belivaird shipper but the Therese x Genevieve ship is just used as a plot device, okay? Please don't hurt me. I've already hurt myself too much writing this fic lol We're all in this together. I warned you guys-- sadomasochistic tendencies because of all the angst. :P
> 
> Two updates again for "Vacancy" next week. (Either Wednesgay or Thursgay and then another one on Saturgay). I'm updating twice because I want to get to the Belivaird parts already.


	6. The Other Side of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese and Genevieve are off to a great start and romance seems to be well in the works for the two. Carol, on the other hand, finds herself on the contrary, on the other side of things. Having had another intense altercation with her husband, Harge, it's only now that she comes into terms with the weight of the choices she made in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another heads up, there's a slight, er, implied abuse cw in the second partition.

In the twilight of summer making way for fall in the year of 2012, Therese, along with the intensity of her emotions, found themselves in the strange push and pull of the aforementioned seasons. How strange it is, she thought, that both could be metaphors for how she currently felt. The heat of summer was slowly fading away, and the onset of a gleaming autumn was almost palpable in the air. She now slowly understood what Dannie had told her before: she had to have a breakdown to have a breakthrough. This was perhaps what he had been talking about all along-- the beauty in the breakdown, the shift of the seasons and the tides. For now, she and her companion, the gorgeous violinist, were rushing through the wide avenues of New York in her motorcycle. She revved up her cafe racer at the signal of the green light and she felt her passenger’s arms cling tighter to her. With Genevieve’s chin resting on her shoulders, she could almost feel her smiling. There was no greater feeling of freedom than racing through the wide open streets at night with the wind gently breezing through her face as if to ascertain her that the journey meant so much more than where the roads ended.

Genevieve insisted to go on a rooftop bar with an outdoor patio overlooking a breathtaking view of New York City by the East River at East 30th Street. On their way there, Therese lent her leather jacket to Genevieve because it took them a couple of blocks to get there and she didn’t want her companion to be shuddering in the cold. The young lady looked exquisite in it, Therese had to admit. The crowd was sparse at that hour, and the atmosphere of the bar was quite intimate. The pair decided to share a bottle of cabernet sauvignon by a corner table.

“I’m glad you changed your mind about tonight,” Genevieve began. She spoke as if she knew Therese’s excuse to skip her offer was unviable. Therese was a bit unnerved from her companion’s intuition and she could only offer her half a smile.

“I hope you weren’t too distressed riding at the back of my motorcycle,” Therese attempted for an apology. Genevieve was wearing a black cocktail dress and a pair of high heels. Therese couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable that might have felt for her, but at the same time, she oddly felt delight when her gorgeous companion’s arms were tightly wound around her waist while they rushed through the boulevard.

“It was exciting to say the least.” The blonde raised her glass for a toast. “I hope it’s not the last.” The pair clinked their glasses and drank to it. Genevieve offered Therese a cigarette and lit it for her.

“You were amazing tonight.” Therese reiterated once more. She felt like there were no words around it, no specific word that could perhaps sum up what she had spectated moments ago. Genevieve took a long drag from her cigarette. Her face didn’t seem to register any emotion as if she had heard the compliment a million times. But still, she turned to Therese and gave her an assuring smile.

“You should come watch the Philharmonic perform at the Geffen Hall. I mean, I’m not the only playing there but it’s still a magnificent experience to listen to an orchestra play live.” Abby wasn’t lying, Therese thought, this was indeed the prodigy she was pertaining to.

“So you’re in the Philharmonic?” Therese tried to sound as if she didn’t know this yet. She just wanted to pry a bit.

“Mmhmm, but I lived in Vienna and Prague for a while before returning here to the US.” Therese tried to imagine Genevieve giving incredible performances in the halls of a handful of foreign cities. She must have captivated thousands of people, but she wondered what captivated the blonde to ask her out for drinks out on a whim tonight. “Three violin openings were announced for the New York Phil a couple of months ago, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to possibly come home and still do what I love.” Genevieve took a dainty sip from her glass of wine and Therese couldn’t help but be caught in the spell of the blonde across her. Her confidence didn’t seem that intimidating anymore. From the way she threw her shoulders back and tucked a loose tress of hair to the back of her ear, Therese deemed the subtleties in her movements  to be sexy.

“Enough about me. So what are you passionate about, Therese?”

“Pardon me?” Therese was snapped out of her trance.

“What do you do for a living?” Genevieve filled in.

“I’m an...” she hated having to say the word because it sounded too pretentious so she settled for a different phrase, “I sell art down at Prince Street at SoHo.”

“So you’re an artist?” Genevieve offered her a better line.

Therese nodded tepidly. Agreeing to it felt like an understatement in front of someone like Genevieve who had spent most of her young life impressing crowds with her craft.

“You don’t seem too convinced of yourself, Therese.”

“I am… an artist. I just,” Therese paused. “I don’t feel like I deserve that title just yet. I haven’t done anything significant that leads me to believe that I’m truly one.” She hated herself for the sudden but distinct slip of honesty in her words.

Genevieve shook her head and flicked the burnt ashes on the tip of her cigarette.

“For someone who had the ovaries to come crash an event she wasn’t invited to and tell me this? It’s an irony don’t you think?” The blonde seemed confounded with Therese’s claim. Therese looked away from her companion not knowing what to respond. The blonde sensed her sudden apprehension.

“Look,” Genevieve stressed, “if you’re passionate about something, there’s no reason to be halfhearted about it. If your heart’s completely in it, I’m sure you’re brilliance radiates through it.” The blonde extended her hand to touch Therese’s and looked to her eyes with so much warmth. She felt her cheeks flush as she tried to stifle a smile.

“You look beautiful when you smile, Therese. Don’t hide it.” Genevieve instantly noticed the dimples on the brunette’s cheeks.

Her directness flustered Therese but it also inexplicably enticed her. The onslaught of ironies within her mind seemed a bit strange and she knew why: part of her was still firmly holding back, part of her still believed that she and Carol were still bound by an indelible affinity. But why was she still holding on to it when there was nothing left to it anymore? Therese gazed at her companion who now seemed to be fixated on the ebbing and flowing of the East River. The distant city lights were hitting the features of her face perfectly; from her strong jawline to her lips slightly parting, Therese found herself overwhelmed with her beauty. She broke from her hesitance to find the courage to try to find love once more. Genevieve now seemed like a foreign country she had all the intention of getting to know, getting to experience. The gentleness in the blonde’s features was nothing to the strength of the currents that ran beneath her. Therese planned on getting lost in Genevieve’s mind over and over again until it became one with hers. She wanted to get to know more of her, but maybe she was getting ahead of herself right now. The blonde looked back at her with the same vigor painted in her eyes. Genevieve thought she had seen all there was to the world, all there was to be heard in the many concertos she had played and listen to. But in the inexplicable way that neither of them had withdrawn their hands from each other, Genevieve hummed a symphony within her that sang of Therese’s name. Whether that was to end in a marvelous finale was up to fate.

“I know it’s late but can I see some of your artwork now?” Genevieve asked.

“Only if you play me a song.” The impassioned Therese obliged.

* * *

Roughly three thousand miles away from where Therese seemed to have found a spark for her heart to reach out to a new affinity, Carol found herself questioning her own new affinity months after her marriage to Hargess Foster Aird. The woman had passed out in the sofa at the living room. She had been waiting for her husband to return from work so she can deliver some good news to him, but the man was a no show. It was already quarter past one in the morning and their loft was silently still. Carol checked out of work early that afternoon so she can prepare a lavish dinner for the both of them. She called hour after hour after, but her husband wasn’t answering his phone. Carol spent most of the night being anxious. Although she was aware that Harge had a tendency to be a workaholic, having him not pick up her calls was what gave a rise to her. Just as Carol got up to head to the bedroom, the front door opened. There stood a man dragging his briefcase with his suit disheveled.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone, Harge? I was worried sick.” Carol spoke.

“The guys at the firm threw a celebration. I left my phone back at the office. I’m sorry.” Harge threw his suit on the coat hanger and missed.

Carol folded her arms. She wasn’t all too amused with Harge’s excuse nor his apology.

“You’re married now, Harge for chrissake!”  
“And what does that mean?” The man raised his voice. “Does that mean I have to abide by everything you say now? That you always know what’s best for me?” Harge moved closer to her. The man reeked of liquor.

“It means that you’re not only living for yourself anymore.” Carol defended herself.

“That’s a lot to say for someone who has been so selfish with her career for most of her life! I know love’s not the reason why you married me.”

Harge’s words stung to Carol, and maybe because it was the very thing that she has become oblivious about in the past years. The toughest words to swallow were the ones that held the burden of the truth.

“I just needed you to call back, Harge. I prepared a special dinner because I was going to tell you something.” Carol digressed.

“What are you waiting for? Say it now then if it couldn’t wait.” Harge half sat on the arm on the couch, crossing his arms as well to show impatience.

“It doesn’t matter now.” The woman turned her back from him.

“Well, I’m not the one who’s going to lose sleep over the things I never got to say.” Harge’s words were doing a number on Carol that night. She didn’t know how much she could handle anymore. As if she took that as queue to speak with honesty,

“If you want the truth, I’m starting to believe that I never really loved you. I thought I did.” Carol took a deep breath and continued, “And yes, I may have been selfish but at least I’m trying. I’m trying to salvage what’s left of this goddamn relationship, Harge. We’ve only been married for a couple of months and you’re the one who’s easily giving up.”

“This is the only thing you’re good at. You’re good at pinning your shortcomings to other people. Just because you’re a huge success now doesn’t mean I’m taking shit from you. ” Harge started to put his coat back on. “This is the problem with women like you!” He pointed at Carol.

“Women like me? You married a woman like me!”

Harge balled his fist as if he were ready to hit Carol.

“Go on. Hit me. Let’s see what you think women like me deserve!” Carol challenged, but Harge quickly dropped his fist. He grabbed the keys for Carol’s car. Her heart leapt for a moment, but she didn’t care anymore. If there was anything more terrible that he could wreck of which she owned, he already did. Their marriage was a failure set on stone.

As soon as Harge left, Carol tears started to stream. She only let herself fall apart in her solitude, but she had forgotten what solitude truly meant for the past months. Could she endure this for a couple more? She asked herself what had she seen in Harge to have compelled her to marry such a man. Did her ambition completely get to her? Having someone point that out to her felt like someone had pressed salt to her open wounds. Harge was a colleague who was on the top of his game just as she was. Maybe she admired him for his work ethic and she mistook that for something else. But just because Harge shared the same drive with his career that she had didn’t mean that they would see eye to eye in matters outside of it. Now, she recognized the way he carried himself outside the confines of his career as something all too disparate. Did she think that associating herself with one of the people responsible for London’s powerhouse law firm had anything to do with advancing her career? Carol despised comparing people but she can’t help but think that Therese was nothing like Harge.

What was she to get from all of this? Sure, she enjoyed a life that made her one of the most distinguished lawyers, but what did that really mean? Maybe this was her biggest mistake: she tried too hard in making things happen, to make everything happen all at once. She wasn’t willing to sacrifice anything but she unknowingly had given up the most important thing: her happiness. All of it meant nothing when she always felt like that there was something missing in her life. She remembered Therese, specifically in those moments when the young woman used to be so happy even with the meager things she had, how she too seemed to be the happiest with her. She wondered if Therese was happy now, if there was some other thing (some other person) who was putting smiles on her face, making those sweet dimples of her appear on her cheeks. It dawned on her that she missed a lot of things about Therese. But why had they come to haunt her after all these years? She made her decision long ago, and if she was to be frank, she hadn’t thought of Therese in the past two years until Abby broke the news that Therese had come to London looking for her. In that span of time, she managed to lose some of the most important things in her life: her kinship-like closeness to Abby and Therese’s love.

Carol stared at the pregnancy test showing a positive sign within her hands. She had been hiding it for a while to surprise Harge, but maybe it was useless now so she threw it to the garbage disposal. Could the birth of a child rescue a dying marriage? Carol was uncertain, but then again, most of the things she used to be absolutely certain about burned down to rubble. It was such a stupid thing, a terrible mistake she had just realized, to have exchanged something beautiful for something that was just plainly real. Carol surmised while lying alone in her bedroom that there was no way one could fathom the greatness and significance of something (or someone) in one’s life until it was gone. The undeniable and tragic measure of love was loss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting an update for "A Sunday Kind of Love" last Sunday. I have no excuse. I was just really exhausted. Updating two fics at a time is no joke but I'll be sure to post one on Sunday.
> 
> Next update for this fic is on Saturday night EST. If you loved the 'Therese rides a motorcycle' headcanon, you'll enjoy another one I'll be throwing in the next chapter. I'll be posting the poster I made for the fic in my tumblr page on that day too. :)


	7. Playing with Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a switch of fate, Carol is now in a downward spiral with marriage on the rocks, a baby on the way, and a career crises. Feeling like a failure in her life, she tries to reconnect with an important person in her life, Abby. Therese and Genevieve on the other hand, well... more gayness ensues between the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the poster I made for this fic. The link is at the end of the chapter :)

Life blossomed within the intricate threads of love, and it ended with the sudden cuts and snips of a single painful goodbye that impended to last forever. In between that, the changing of the seasons coursed through like a river that ebbed and flowed ceaselessly to a glistening sea. The tides shifted just as the seasons did, and as swiftly as summer turned to fall in the year 2012, Genevieve Cantrell found herself instantly, inexplicably and inevitably in love with Therese Belivet. 

On the night that the two had just met, Therese took Genevieve to her apartment as the blonde had wished to see some of her artwork. Therese didn’t know what had gotten in her to say yes to anything that the talented violinist would have wanted. Usually, when a girl had indicated a certain interest in her, she would close off immediately mostly because she was still hanging on to the thought of Carol coming back to her. Part of her now accepted that Carol was never coming back to her. And that night, she could feel the shift in the air.

“This mess of a place is both my home and my studio.” Therese amusingly declared as she let Genevieve into her apartment. 

Her workspace on a corner of the room had plenty of cans of paints, dirty brushes, and semi-finished pieces, but on the other side was her living space which was a huge contrast. Her small kitchen and the partition to her sleeping space was spic and span.

“Where are your finished works?” Genevieve asked as she looked around. Therese smiled not caving in just yet.

“You told me you’ll play a song for me, right?”  
  
Genevieve smirked. She took out her violin from its case.

“Alright, what song would you like me to play?”

“Anything. Indulge me.” Therese said plopping herself down on the couch.

“You seem like a tough crowd to please, Therese Belivet.” Genevieve jokingly grimaced before she began with the first movement of Paganini’s arduous Caprice No. 24. The mastery she had was beyond anything that Therese had ever seen. She was completely taken by Genevieve. Maybe it was because she was beautiful, or she was absolutely talented, or it was all about the confidence that she exuded. Maybe it was everything about her. Therese felt something that she had never felt for such a long time--not since Carol. Watching her move with virtuosity in that form-fitting black dress fueled something in the brunette’s imagination. She was a bit embarrassed about her sudden thought of wanting the blonde woman naked on her bed. Her urges seemed to echo around the room since they were the only two people around. Therese tried to suppress it. When the blonde finished with a prolonged note, Therese rose to her feet and gave her a big hand as if they were in a hall where she was performing. Genevieve gave her a wink and Therese could’ve sworn her heart imploded. When she gathered herself, she led Genevieve to her workspace.

“Here,” Therese gestured to a few painting after removing the cloth that shrouded the pile. She set them up to lean towards the wall so Genevieve can get a better view of them. They were an assortment of pieces, most of which were mixed media. The blonde meticulously studied them. Therese was a bit nervous whenever she showed her art to other people. She felt vulnerable to criticism. She thought Genevieve was beyond magnificent, but what would she think of her work? For some reason, she felt as if what Genevieve perceived of her art mattered beyond what anyone would say. She wanted to impress her. Therese began babbling about her inspiration for each of the piece and the media she used. The brunette couldn’t stop chattering. She wouldn’t stop until her critic would say something about it.   
“The art speaks for itself.” Genevieve hushed Therese which took brunette aback. She stopped talking and let the blonde contemplate on them. Genevieve, was in some ways, like a younger version of Carol although Therese couldn’t quite pinpoint it now. The young woman was as bold, headstrong and confident as Carol was. Her kind cherub face might fool people into thinking she was nothing but a gentle, sweet soul. Behind that was a fire that riotously blazed through within her, but to Therese, Genevieve radiated like a thousand suns that had thawed her frozenness, her stillness in the past that was constantly plagued by Carol.    
“They’re brilliant, Therese.” Genevieve turned to her after a while and Therese began blabbing about them again out of nervousness.

The blonde shook her head.  _ Will she just calm down and stop talking?  _ Genevieve thought. Therese felt her intense gaze on her and she was silenced. With her auburn eyes seeming to burn, Genevieve grabbed the brunette’s face and kissed her passionately. Therese let herself fall into the rapture of the blonde’s lips and drew her body close to hers. She let her hands shamelessly explore the curves of the blonde. The pair pulled apart from the kiss a bit breathless, but Therese came back for more letting their hungry mouths give in.

**9 December 2012**

After her shift in her part-time job at a craft brewery, Therese rushed to catch the opening night for the New York Philharmonic’s special concert for the winter season. Instead of being the concertmaster, Genevieve was the featured artist, the soloist for the important night. She had reserved a ticket for Therese in one of the most exceptional seats in the hall. Therese was running late so she didn’t have time to get dressed. She was once again clad in her usual all-black outfit-- A leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans and worn out sneakers. Therese knew that what she was doing was unorthodoxed, but it was better to be present for most of the performance than miss it altogether.

Meanwhile at the hall, Genevieve was peeking out from the backstage to check if Therese had already arrived. Although it wasn’t the first time that Therese had seen Genevieve to perform, it was quite a significant occasion for her that’s why she wanted the brunette to be around. The show needed to start yet Therese was nowhere in sight. Along with the conductor, she went on stage and the crowd roared with an applause. The conductor gave the queue and the orchestra began with Sibelius’ Violin Concerto in D-minor. Genevieve was playing with such dexterity and emotion. The symphonic sound swept through the hall and the audience was captivated. Suddenly, the trance that shrouded the audience seemed to have been broken. Therese created quite a stir with the audience when she began running down the aisle, hustling to get to her seat while a few ushers were trying to slow her down. The brunette definitely knew how to make an entrance that’s for sure. Unbeknownst to her, Abby was also in the crowd of spectators. Just like the rest of the people, she was now fixated on the small raucous that the young woman created instead of watching the performers on stage. 

“Isn’t that…?” Abby’s redheaded companion took notice.

Her eyes followed Therese who had a stupid grin plastered on her face before she took her seat. She was smiling at none other than the gorgeous woman in the spotlight who quickly shot Therese the same sweet smile without losing focus on the piece, in fact, she seemed to play even more brilliantly. Genevieve oddly loved the tinge of rebellion in Therese. All throughout the score, Therese was fully engrossed in the way that Genevieve played. Abby would glance at Therese right across the aisle and she knew it was the same smitten look she had the night that she urged her to ask Genevieve out. Abby smirked and rolled her eyes at how her young friend was acting. Although Therese had yet to say it, she knew it all along. She knew her friend was in love and she was nothing but happy for her. When the concert was finished, she immediately ran to Therese to say hi. The young woman was surprised. Therese, after a short talk with Abby, then took her to the backstage to meet someone. The brunette handed a bouquet of flowers to the brilliant soloist of the night and planted a gentle kiss on her rouged lips. Abby grinned. Therese proudly introduced Genevieve as her girlfriend.  

* * *

**23 March 2013**

Before the first break of light in a cold, dreary morning, Carol left the home that she once briefly shared with Hargess Foster Aird. She had only brought with her two luggages that contained her clothes, a box of her treasured books, and the painting that Therese made for her four years ago in a street in New York City. It seemed odd for her to bring it, to carry with her an object that elicited so much of her current regrets. Along with those regrets were the what-ifs that haunted her after the horrendous yet eye-opening altercation with Harge. What if every single thing after Therese was a mistake? What if she didn’t let ambition get the best of her? What if she never married Harge? What if she stayed with Therese and never gave up on her? 

What if? What if? What if? 

The more she thought of it, the more that she felt like a massive failure with regrets piling up after another. With her belongings loaded in her Bentley, she drove off to the bleak streets of Kensington. She would never look back at the tremendous mansion slowly becoming just a small speck from the vantage as she furthered east.

Carol rented a small loft in Westminster. She had no specific plan other than to leave Harge so the 1BR/1BA loft was the only available place she could get on such short notice. The space was furnished although it did need a lot of improvement. She and Harge had been threatening each other with a divorce but no one was taking it seriously. None of them had the guts to actually pursue it, but after Harge laid a hand on her, Carol thought that was the last straw. With the divorce proceedings underway, she resigned from her job at Harge’s firm. She was now looking into either teaching in a university or continuing to practice law at a nonprofit who immediately offered her a position upon knowing that she severed ties with Harge’s firm. With a baby on the way, she had to carefully consider what to do with her career. No one was going to look after her. She only had herself. Thinking of all those things made her dizzy. She has never felt so alone in her life.

Before she could unpack her things, she had fallen asleep well into the afternoon. She woke up with the heavy feeling still lingering within her. She laid on the couch contemplating the choices that she made, all of which were mistakes. It was certainly greater than a mistake if the anguish was too difficult to bear, wasn’t it? If there was such a word that went beyond the extreme folly of a mistake, this was it. Carol had committed it and she knew it. It would eat her alive if she never did anything about it. She thought of all the bridges she burned to get where she was, and one that painfully struck her aside from straying from Therese was drifting off from Abby. Abigail Gerhard was her tough competitor back in her university days, but she admired her extensively. She was her best friend. What ever happened to them? Why was she quick to let that friendship fall apart? The last time she had talked to the woman was when she sent an invitation to her for the wedding. How stupid of her to send one, she thought. Carol began to scroll down her phone’s contacts and saw the woman’s name and number glaring at her. Should she call her? Her pride was what kept her at bay all this time from mending their friendship. Right now, there was nothing to lose so she pressed the call button. It beeped for what seemed like an eternity before a person came on the line.

“Hello?” 

Carol felt the hint of apprehension in Abby’s voice that’s why it took her a while to pick up.

“Abby? This is Carol.”

“Oh… uhm...”

“Please don’t hang up.” Carol’s voice was a bit shaky. She knew Abby would be cold. Who wouldn’t be after everything they’ve been through? “Do you have the time to talk?”

Abby was quite busy that day. She was still in her office rigorously studying a case. “I kind of have my hands full right now.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll just call when you’re not too busy. I can wait.” Carol had to be patient with Abby. She was, of course, the end that needed a favor and the sympathy to go along with it.   
“I guess I’ll talk to you when I can?” Abby was actually feeling guilty that she had to say it that way. A huge part of her didn’t want to speak to the woman.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you to call back.”

Abby hung up and Carol was left distraught. She shouldn’t have called. She knew she shouldn’t have expected much from Abby after all of it. A few beats later, her phone was ringing.

“Hey…” It was Abby on the line again. She felt guilty about being cold to her when Carol seemed to be cordial. Although she was mad at her, part of her also wanted to make amends.

“I’m going to be in London next week. Would you have the time to meet then?”

* * *

 

Carol met Abby in a cafe at Covent Garden on a late Wednesday afternoon. They haven’t seen each other in person, not since she left for London some time two years ago. Abby was a bit apprehensive giving her a hug, but Carol still wrapped her arms around her.

“It’s good to see you.” Abby spoke.

Carol returned the words, but she felt like she owed Abby much more than an “it’s good to see you too.”

They began with small talk, asking how their lives were but Carol was evading from answering hers. They both put up walls around them and it was palpable. A daunting silence veiled the two. This wasn’t going as the way Carol had planned so she just let the words spill out. 

“I’m sorry.” Carol let it echo through the silence. It was beating loud within her and she had to let it out.

“I know being miles away and breaking up with Therese should have had nothing to do with our friendship, but I’m sorry for letting it get in the way. I wasn’t a good person to you.”

Abby stared at Carol keenly.

“The truth is, nothing went to anything I’ve ever thought or planned. I left my job. I have a failure of a marriage, and I’ll be raising a child on my own soon.” 

Abby was just silent.

“Say something?” Carol pleaded. “Tell me something. You can tell me I was wrong. Tell me that I deserve every single bad thing I’m going through right now.” Carol breathed in. “That I deserve to suffer so much for letting us drift apart, for walking away from the person who truly loved me.”

Carol was now teary-eyed. Abby stood up and hugged Carol.

“No, I won’t. That’s a terrible thing to say.” 

Carol let her tears fall as Abby held her tighter and rubbed her back. She couldn’t help herself.

“The Carol I know wouldn’t let this defeat her.”

Abby held Carol’s hands and looked into her grey eyes.

“I’m sorry too. Whatever’s happening now is just small bump in the road. You’ll be fine. Don’t ever think you’re alone. I’m here for you.”

Carol wiped her tears and laughed at how horrible she was with her emotions. Abby sat back to her chair and the two gathered themselves from the flood of truth that they had let out. 

“So you’re expecting?” She asked with a genuine smile on her face. Carol nodded while putting her hand on her tummy.

“How far are you along?” 

“I’m on my second trimester.”

“Congratulations! It must be a girl. You look blooming even with you know… everything you’re going through.”

“I hope so.” Carol giggled.

The pair fell quiet again.

“How is Therese?” Carol finally let out the words that she’d been holding in. She tried to sound as casual as she could

“Therese?” Somehow that riled Abby a bit. Carol sensed the tinge of defense in Abby’s tone. 

“Is she doing fine?” She felt like she shouldn’t have asked. Abby was the only connection she had with Therese and she had to know how she was.

“She is.” Abby tried to be cordial. Carol waited for Abby to expound on it, but she didn’t. If she pried even more she knew it wouldn’t lead to anything good and would eventually break off whatever they had rebuild at that moment. But Carol couldn’t help herself.

“Is she happy?”

Abby hesitated. She was weighing her options. If she indeed told the truth that Therese was happy and that Carol wasn’t the cause of it, would that still make Carol happy too? Or would it make her bitter about her current situation even more. She didn’t quite know how to respond to it appropriately. 

Carol waited on Abby for an answer. She knew her friend was being careful with what she was saying. They’ve been friends for such a long time, and even if they weren’t in amicable terms for a while, the intuition they had for each other never left.

“You could tell me the tru…”

“She is.” Abby cut her off. She knew Carol was anticipating for her to say more, but she couldn’t get herself to. Therese was genuinely happy but she didn’t want to rub it all over Carol’s face. Once again, she found herself in the middle of a silent crossfire. Carol, on the other hand, felt Abby’s protectiveness for Therese. She knew her loyalties were now laid out for the young woman. It was not for hers anymore.

“Well, that’s that.” Carol forcefully mustered a smile.

Carol wanted to ask many things about Therese but she knew Abby wouldn’t give the answers to her. If she wanted to know, she would have to find it out herself. Although her meeting with Abby wasn’t a leap away from all her troubles, she was glad that her friend was willing to rebuild their friendship. Abby walked with her on her way back to her loft. They didn’t talk about Therese. They didn’t talk about the troubles beleaguering her. Instead, they reminisced about their days back in Cambridge when they were both still studying law. They joked and laughed like a bunch of school girls. Both of them missed that. As soon as they parted ways, Carol looked up and noticed the sky rapidly change colors. The air grew warmer. She knew spring was well on its way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on Wednesgay! Something big is going to happen. >:)
> 
> Here is the link for the poster I made for the fic. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> http://theresebelivetsgayhat.tumblr.com/post/142149055101/vacancy-a-carol-former-lovers-au-summary-therese


	8. Fresh Pair of Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese and Carol are given new beginnings-- although separate from each other's realities. Therese receives an astounding news from Dannie a year after she left London. Her life is changing right before her eyes with her dreams being incarnated. Carol, on the other hand, continues to rebuild herself even with the constant struggles thrown her way. Out of all of this, she finds light in such dark circumstances as she gives birth to Rindy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Sorry I didn't upload last night. I have no better excuse other than life-- and the times that it suddenly sucks for a moment. But to make up for it, I also posted a new [long overdue] update for "A Sunday Kind of Love." I wouldn't let you guys down. D'awww #cheese lol <3

**9 August 2013**

**Brooklyn, New York**

The August rain was relentlessly falling over the skyscrapers and steeples all over New York City. Genevieve Cantrell was already awake in the first break of light attempting to peep amidst the haze and the fog cloaking Brooklyn. She watched the raindrops strike and run down the window of the bedroom that she shared with Therese Belivet. To her, the rain orchestrated magic, and the peaceful breathing of her lover lying next to her was nothing short of a mesmerizing sonata. Minutes later, Therese woke up to her lover’s beautiful auburn eyes lovingly gazing upon her.   
“Good morning, babe.” Genevieve whispered with a tenderness in her tone.   
“Good morning.” Therese responded. Her sleep-ridden eyes adjusting to the light of the room. “Go back to bed. It’s still early.” She mindlessly grabbed Genevieve’s face for a kiss and cozied up closer to her as she rested her head on the blonde’s chest. Genevieve draped her arm across the smaller woman’s shoulders. Therese felt safe in Genevieve arms. It was a feeling she had never felt in years after Carol. 

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have work today.”

“Then call in sick for your rehearsals.” Therese urged as she planted kisses from the back of Genevieve’s ear to her collarbones.

“I wish I could, but the opening night for the fall season is just a month away.”

“You’re so amazing that you don’t even need to practice anymore, Gen.” Therese was being frisky. Her lips never strayed from Genevieve’s skin.

The blonde rolled her eyes at Therese’s remark.

“I’m serious. You’re amazing! And besides, you have two more hours before you have to be in Manhattan. We have plenty of time for...” Therese drew her naked body closer to Genevieve’s own.  

“Well, if it’s still early, we could…” Genevieve first softly traced Therese’s side tattoo with her fingers. Her black and white tattoo of a vine of flowers in varying sizes extended from the side of her breast down to her hip.

“The artist herself looks like a masterpiece.” Genevieve beheld Therese’s bare physique. Her fingers that caressed Therese’s body were now replaced with her mouth, kissing the smaller woman’s delicate side. The brunette savored her lover’s gentle touches until she caved in to temptation. She pinned Genevieve down the bed, burying her face on her neck before making a trail of kisses from her breasts down to her tummy. She teased Genevieve before her mouth made its way in between her lover’s legs. In the heat of the moment, Therese’s phone began to ring. Exasperation was painted on her face as she hastily checked the screen. It was Dannie.  _ What could he possibly want calling early this morning? _ She thought to herself. 

“Something wrong?” The blonde asked. Therese ignored the call and turned back to her lover.

“Nah. It’s probably not important.” She propped Genevieve’s hips on top of a pillow and resumed kissing her inner thighs. But suddenly, Genevieve’s phone started ringing too.

“Goddamnit. Can we get a break here?” Therese was definitely annoyed.

“I have to get this. It’s Anne, the director.” Genevieve hurriedly sat up and covered her body with a blanket. Therese was being playful and pulled the blanket away from Genevieve. She slapped the smaller woman’s arm but she was having none of it. While Genevieve was still busy talking to her boss, Therese brushed the blonde’s hair away from her shoulders. She kissed the crook of her neck and slid a hand down in between Genevieve’s legs. A devilish smile lined her face as a distinct moan escaped her lover. Genevieve tried to cover it up by clearing her throat repeatedly. She hoped her boss didn’t hear her moan.

“Goddamnit, Therese Belivet.” Genevieve threw a pillow to Therese’s face. She knew this was just the brunette playing tricks on her so she could stay at home with her. “I’ll get you back, you’ll see!” 

“Why don’t you do it now? Show me.” Therese grinned victoriously, but Genevieve was already out of the bed and heading to the bathroom.

“I have to get ready, babe. They need me at the hall. I’m meeting the guest conductor.”

Anne, the director of the Philharmonic, seemed to pride Genevieve so much that they always invited her to special [even menial] events and parties thrown by the executives and sponsors of the Philharmonic. There wasn’t an inkling of jealousy in Therese though if the talented violinist mingled with the likes of men and women who might readily sweep her off with the promises of money and fame. Genevieve was not that type of woman, she knew. 

Therese’s phone rang again. It was still Dannie, but she didn’t feel like answering it. She lied on the bed just contemplating about life. She and Genevieve would be celebrating their first anniversary just a few months from now. She wondered how in the world did she ever get lucky with Genevieve. At the end of the day, there was nothing Genevieve anticipated more but to come home to her-- though Therese still didn’t quite know why Genevieve found her the most fascinating person amongst the billions of people of the world. That’s the magical thing about love, she surmised; billions of probabilities yet one person will ultimately and inevitably gravitate to another and no one else.

What are the odds of that?

Most of the time, Therese doubted herself if she could ever be as brilliant as what Genevieve assured her to be. It was quite intimidating to be the lover of such a magnificent musician while she still had everything to prove in her own craft. Genevieve sold out show after show in the Geffen Hall, and she was showered with praises after every single performance-- Abby was doubtlessly right about that. She wasn’t envious of her girlfriend though, but she was just in constant doubt of her own abilities. Who was Therese Belivet? What would make her recognizable in her passion for art? The gift of mediocrity? The benefit of having a talent but never being good enough? There has to be some sort of bridge for the ideas to make sense together, she thought. Therese’s phone rang for the third time. The same name was on the screen: Dannie McElroy. This time, she picked it up immediately.

“Terry!!! Finally!!!” Dannie shouted a bit ecstatically.

“Why are you calling at six in the morning? What could be so important that you have to call me at this ungodly hour several times?” Six in the morning was still an ungodly hour for Therese who very much adored the company of the night, but it was already ten in the morning in London.

“Kill me if this won’t be one of the most important phone calls you’ll ever take. Someone important really wants to speak to you.”

Therese felt like Dannie was exaggerating too much, but he did have a point. Why on earth would he call this early for something that wasn’t significant? Therese could hear a faint old woman’s voice in the background as Dannie handed her the phone. Her curiosity and anxiety grew.

“Hello? Miss Therese Belivet?” A woman’s raspy voice came on the other line.

“This is she.” Therese meekly responded.

“Ah, yes! This is Mrs. Ruby Robichek from the  _ Robichek Modern _ in London.” Her English accent was thick. Therese’s heart stopped. The  _ Robichek Modern _ was one of the most famous art galleries in London. Her eyes grew wide and her anxiety was apparent.   
“What’s up? Is there something wrong?” Genevieve asked as she came out of the shower finding a stunned Therese sitting at the foot of the bed. Therese turned on the speakerphone and pointed frantically at it. Genevieve hurriedly sat beside her.

“Our curator happened to be in Mr. McElroy’s bar last night and she was very fascinated with your artworks displayed here. In all honesty, she can’t stop talking about your work so I came here to see for myself. I am very much as impressed as she was.” Genevieve now seemed more excited than Therese was. “We are interested in getting know you more since we are considering to exhibit your works in our gallery for a limited time.” Genevieve stifled a screech. “How soon can you come to London? The earlier the better, Miss Belivet.” The woman on the other line said.

Therese was speechless. No words can come out of her mouth.  _ Robichek Modern  _ wanted to feature her work. A renowned gallery for contemporary art wanted to feature the pieces she poured much of her heart into. Was this real? She just blankly stared at Genevieve while making gestures with her hands.

“Monday next week.” Genevieve answered for her. Therese looked at her with bewilderment. Just three days from now? How can she prepare for it? How could she be ready by that time?. 

“That’s perfect. Would you please bring a portfolio of your current works as well? Our curator will send you an email regarding the details for our meeting. We’re eagerly waiting for you here in London.”

Genevieve slapped Therese’s arm, urging her to say something but the brunette was tongue-tied.

“Thank you so much, Mrs… er, Ma’am! I’ll be there on Monday. I’m looking forward to meeting you.” Genevieve replied for her once more.

Before Dannie came back on the line, they heard him exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. Robichek as she left.   
“What could be more important than that phone call, huh?” He declared, confident of himself.

Therese giggled. 

“Jesus, Terry! I told you so!!! I told you you’d get your big break soon enough! Drinks on me when you come here, alright? This is your big moment!”

“It might be.” Therese was still breathless. 

“Are you okay, Terry?”

Therese was taking audible deep breaths.

“She’s okay, Dannie.” Genevieve seemed to be Therese’s spokesperson for the day. “It just hasn’t sunk to her yet.”

“Gen! Hey! Can you believe it? Terry’s going to...”

Before Dannie could speak more, Therese finally said something coherent.

“I owe you one. Big time. Thanks, Dannie!”

“Here you are! Nah. This one’s all on you, mate! Well-deserved! I’ll see you soon then!”

When the two friends exchanged goodbyes, Genevieve hugged Therese tightly.

“I’m proud of you, babe. See? All that self-doubt was for nothing. You ARE an artist.” She booped Therese’s nose and went to the dresser to put on some clothes.

“Can you call in sick for rehearsals now? Please? To celebrate.” Therese shot Genevieve a wink as she watched the blonde put on her underwear. She wished she was doing the opposite. It astounded Genevieve how Therese could still be frisky after all that had just happened. The blonde smirked and slowly approached Therese with her unbuttoned shirt. She straddled the smaller woman and caressed her face.

“Tonight.” She teased her with a passionate kiss. “I promise.”

* * *

When the sun had sunk across the Atlantic, Carol prepared a sumptuous supper for two. Abby was coming over to talk about the cases that Carol filed against Harge in the past months. With the onslaught of debacles coming her way and having no one to lean on, she had never felt so alone in her life. She was glad that even for just a while, she had the company of a good friend. It had been a week since she took her maternal leave from her job as an advisor at a nonprofit organization for women and children. Any given day now, she was to give birth. Her divorce papers could not be finalized yet. Carol’s lawyer suggested that she pursue the case only after the child was born. It would be unlikely that the judge would favor the divorce with a child on the way. Carol also knew Harge would be stalling because of the damages she had left to his firm. Months earlier, Carol had filed a case against him for domestic abuse. The scandal became public and that made a lot of clienteles withdraw representation from his firm. She won the case and that allowed her to slap a restraining order on him. It would also be an immense help for when the divorce proceedings begin. Abby supported Carol all the way through the trials. Although Abby badly wanted to represent her, she couldn’t take Carol’s cases since she was practicing corporate law and she didn’t have a deep understanding of the cases Carol had and was filing for. Nevertheless, her friend triumphed. Abby gave any kind of support she could give and  looked after Carol because she couldn’t stand to see her old friend struggling. The woman didn’t have anyone to run to. She only had herself to keep the ship afloat. But sometimes, the ship that had been hampered also needed help from the currents to sail towards where it needed to be.

Abby arrived at quarter past seven in the rainy evening. Carol made a hearty shepherd’s pie for the two of them and a jam roly poly for dessert. She also bought a bottle of wine for Abby although she would be content on sipping tea. 

“So you’ve firmly decided on working for that nonprofit? It doesn’t make a lot of money, Carol. You know a divorce would need loads of money. Bequeathing the Ross estate now is a bit far-fetched, you know that.” Abby frankly said before taking a bite. Carol came from a very affluent family, but she grew estranged from them because of the decisions she had made in the past.  _ They’d be glad to know they’re not the only one disappointed in her now _ , she thought to herself. 

“I know, but I also have to think about my daughter. I want to spend as much time with her as possible. Working in the European Court of Human Rights again won’t allow me to do that, neither would joining another international firm. I am not settling for anything less than full custody of her when we get to the hearing.”

Carol did have a good point, Abby thought. She had never heard of her friend making tremendous sacrifices for anyone or anything. It was only now that she was to be a mother that she had committed to it.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, we’d be glad to have someone like you in our firm back in New York. I’d rather we keep you very far away from London... or from Harge I should say.” Abby was now pitching ideas for Carol. “You could also come teach law at Columbia. They offered me a professorship a few weeks ago. I declined. With your background, you’re sure to get in.”

Carol was certainly considering Abby’s offer, but she had reservations and she knew Abby had some of it too with that bold proposition to make her come back to the city where she and Therese had fallen in love.

“But are you sure you’d be okay with me going back to New York after all these craziness?” Carol approached it a bit distantly. 

“Of course, I am!” Abby lied.

“What about Therese?” Carol finally said it. She knew Abby was hesitant on letting her see Therese, but of course, Abby was just trying to introduce better alternatives to her situation.

“New York is a huge place. What are the odds of you bumping into her? That’s like one in a million… or billion?” Abby helped herself to another serving of shepherd’s pie.  “And besides,” she continued, “I don’t take sides. I just want what’s best for you and what’s best for Therese.” Abby didn’t say  _ “what’s best for you two.”  _ It immediately stung to Carol that she and Therese definitely led separate lives now. Why was she overanalyzing Abby’s word? It probably didn’t mean anything to her friend, but to her, somehow it did. She knew a part of her was still attached to Therese. The last time she had seen the brunette was around three years ago. It seemed such a long time now but she didn’t have an idea why she couldn’t shake off the idea of her with Therese.

“I’ve plenty of time to think about my options. Thank you, Abby. You’ve done more than enough for me.” Carol simply said.

The truth was, Abby had not told Therese about the struggle that Carol was going through. Abby didn’t have the heart to tell her. For all Therese probably knew, Carol was happily married and had an illustrious career as a lawyer. With that thought in mind, she perhaps would be glad for Carol too now that she had also found love in Genevieve. Abby knew Therese was beyond happy and that she seemed better off without having to mention the woman who broke her heart years before. Why try to ruin it now? She thought. She also refused to tell anything to Carol about Therese. Although her friend never said it, Abby knew that Carol was pining for Therese and the guilt of leaving her was eating her inside. A life long friendship did that. The intuition for the other never strayed.

**12 August 2013**

**London, England**

The rain had followed Therese across the Atlantic. Although she would have loved for Genevieve to come with her to London, she can’t. The violinist had rehearsals for the rest of the week, but she stayed up to take her girlfriend to the airport. Therese took a red eye flight last Sunday. She showered Genevieve with kisses before she boarded the gates. The artist arrived the next day at the London Heathrow Airport and a familiar face greeted her. Her curly-haired friend who made it all possible for her to begin her new journey was jumping up and down and waving his hands once he caught sight of her. 

“Well if it isn’t the next Georgia O’Keeffe of our post-modern times!” Dannie took the small woman into his arms.   
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, man. I still have to meet them. Nothing’s set in stone yet.” Therese remarked. She was always cautious about “jinxing” things.

Dannie took Therese’s bag and the two made their way to the London Underground.

“Well, they seemed really interested in buying your paintings in my bar. I told them to wait until you got here. The royalties are all yours, my friend.”

“But what if they don’t like my new stuff though? You heard them. They want to see the things I’ve been working on.”

“You’re destined for this, Terry. Just chill. You’ll be fine.” Dannie tapped his friend’s back. “Parts of you never changed, no?”  Therese was definitely uptight. She had been waiting for this her whole life, but it hasn’t completely settled on her yet. She still didn’t quite know how to react to it.

“It’s not too early for drinks at the bar, is it?” Therese suggested.

Dannie shook his head and laughed.

Contrary to what she had suggested earlier, Therese rested the whole morning. In the afternoon, she ran through her presentation with Dannie. He would give critiques and questions while Therese tried to answer them. At quarter past four in the afternoon, the duo made their way to Bankside where the Robichek Modern was located. Dannie came along just to carry the paintings for Therese although he refused to come in with her to the meeting. He waited outside and meandered by the banks of the Thames River. He said that the moment was hers for the taking.

Upon entering the gallery, she asked for a “Miss Sylvia” the curator of the museum or Mrs. Robichek from the receptionist. Therese was directed to a hall down at the end of the corridor. She entered an empty hall with the exclusion of a table and a few chairs in the middle of the room. It was perhaps a space for temporary exhibits, one that Therese’s works maybe displayed. A woman with gray hair and a rotund body was talking to a few other people when she came in. That was probably Mrs. Robichek, she thought. They all took notice of Therese’s arrival when she accidentally dropped one of her paintings. She apologized immediately. When Therese began with her presentation, she was obviously very prepared for it with no hint of nervousness, but inside her was a different story. The passion in the way she explained her works inevitably pierced through. It was something Genevieve had always pointed out about her--  _ It’s easy for anyone to notice that you are nothing but truly connected to your art. It’s nothing but admirable, Therese _ , she once remarked. Therese hardly made it to showing the eighth slide of her portfolio when the board made her stop her stop presentation because they’ve made their decision. 

Therese’s heart stopped. 

She thought it was all over for her and they didn’t like her that’s why they’re ending it. While the board members talked, she couldn’t decipher the emotions in their faces. They don’t look amused though. But just as she felt defeat, Mrs. Robichek began to talk. Therese was to have her first solo exhibition at the Robichek Modern on the second week of January, giving her ample time to create more pieces for her show on the condition that she had to report her progress every week. On top of that, she also garnered representation from the two other associate galleries of Robichek Modern in New York City and Tokyo. Therese wanted to cry in front of them. _What are the odds?_ She thought. _What are the odds of an art agent finding her work of high esteem and value?_ Now she was here. She felt like she won the lottery. While she was signing the contracts, everything felt surreal to her. Her dreams were finally coming true but it felt like it was not quite there yet. She had an unsettling feeling about something. The art that she was being noticed for was the art that she poured herself inspired by Carol. The watercolor sketches she had made of Carol while reeling in from the relationship  was what drew attention to her as an artist. Therese never told Genevieve about Carol. How was she going to explain those watercolor sketches to her when she sees them? She wasn’t entirely sure if it was the highest regard and the best revenge to her greatest heartbreak, or the biggest betrayal to herself as the immortalized reminder of the woman who had every bit of her love in the past was now to be publicly shown. 

* * *

In the months leading to this day, Carol’s anxiety and excitement grew. It was a bit odd for the two seemingly parallel feelings to coincide, yet her she was. Abby had gone back to New York two days ago and she was left in London alone. Although she knew she should keep having positive thoughts since she had a little girl on the way, she couldn’t help herself if at times she’d slip into her own world of self-loathing. It did make her feel selfish. Soon, she wouldn’t be living her life for her own. Her life would revolve around a little girl whose hopes, happiness and dreams would be translated to her own.

In another rainy afternoon in London, Carol checked in to the hospital by herself bringing with her a change of clothes for a few days and the bag for the baby that she had prepared for months. She felt like everyone judged her for not having anyone by her side at such a significant moment in her life, but with that badgering thought, she still chose to stand strong. While she waited for the doctor, the walls of the hospital room seem to cave in on her. It was sort of the feeling you get when you’re in the middle of the ocean sailing on a small ship and you don’t know how to swim if ever the ship sinks. But the only safe harbor she could only see now was her daughter. On the 12th of August of the year 2013, Carol gave birth to Nerinda Ross Aird at around half past the hour of seven in the evening. The little girl’s name meant “a beautiful sea.” Although life hasn’t been smooth sailing for the past year, Rindy was the main reason she propelled herself through the agony. For legal reasons, she used Harge’s last name for the child. She was trying to avoid causing more chaos if she had to start a new life with her daughter. She would definitely be questioned during the divorce proceedings if she had chosen otherwise. Holding the beautiful infant in her arms made her forget that the world felt like it was writing her ruin. She planted a gentle kiss on her daughter’s forehead and whispered,  
  
“You don’t have to be alone as long as I’m here. We have each other now, darling.”

As she gazed at little Rindy squirming in her arms, she knew she now had every reason to look at the world and her life through a fresh pair of eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new [long overdue] chapter of my other fic, "A Sunday Kind of Love" is already posted. Sorry for the long wait. I'm writing both angst and fluff in two different AUs at the same time and I don't know how I'm still sane. [I'm actually not].
> 
> Next update for "Vacancy" will be on Saturday. I'll also be posting the fanmixes I made for each of the characters a.k.a "the soundtrack" on my tumblr page simultaneously. 
> 
> Get ready for what's about to happen in the next update... That's all I'm going to say... >:D


	9. Time is Ephemeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Therese's first solo exhibition at the Robichek Modern in London. The people most important to her are taking the time off from their busy schedules to support her during the opening night. Abby, Genevieve and Dannie-- they were all there. As the eventful night comes to an end, Therese precariously catches a glimpse of the person who inspired most of the works in her exhibition, the most important person in her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagined this song playing at the end of this chapter. It's called "Her (Loving You)" by Glades.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCl1PsVK-E8

**11 January 2014**

**London, England**

In the advent of a New Year, Therese too began a new journey that she could have never thought of crossing paths with. The opening for her solo exhibition was tonight, and it wasn’t just in an art gallery. Her art would be featured in _the_ esteemed Robichek Modern. Her heart raced whenever she thought of it. People actually thought her art was something thought-provoking or at the very least, something that was pleasing to the eye. She turned around and Genevieve was still sleeping serenely on the bed. Therese hoped that the blonde wouldn’t wake up soon. She wanted to savor the stillness of the early morning by herself. There was so much beauty in letting one’s mind drift away to a pristine day. Therese stood by the window and languidly drew the drapes. Her hotel room in SoHo overlooked a busy street. Snow was gently falling into the pavements and she can’t help but be mesmerized by it. More than a year ago, she was in the same city reeling in from one of the toughest moments in her life. Things were a lot different now. The calm descent of snow reminded her of the galaxy of stars she had wished to in those times when she had nothing. Certainly, what she had now was more than what she had wished for. In that moment, she felt incredibly grateful and happy. Everything was coming full circle for her.

* * *

It was quarter past five in a Saturday afternoon when Carol was done grocery shopping. She was carrying a six-month old Rindy who laid peacefully on a baby sling across her chest. Carol was carefully loading the grocery bags into the back of her car when she quickly remembered that she had forgotten a few of Rindy’s things in her office. The nonprofit that she now worked with had no qualms about her bringing Rindy to work. It was, after all, an organization that focused on the rights of women and children so they were very accomodating to their employees who were mothers-- especially since Carol was single-handedly raising her daughter. She hardly worried about getting a babysitter or a nanny. Carol was around Rindy as much as possible, more often than not. On top of that, Rindy was not much of a trouble. She was well-behaved baby most of the time. At least something [someone] finally went right in her life, she thought.

Carol arrived at the office at White Chapel and she was relieved that Jillian, the receptionist, was still there. Seeing Rindy was with her, Jillian made odd noises that one usually did when smitten by an adorable baby. Carol let the child be carried by the young lady. While Jillian played with Rindy, she quickly grabbed the necessities from her office, double checking if she had everything with her before she shut the door. On her way out, Jillian started small talk with Carol asking her questions about Rindy.

“Rindy grows so fast, Mrs. Aird.” The young woman exclaimed. God, Carol hated having to hear that name still attached to her. But what could she do? The divorce was yet to be settled. It would take grueling months, maybe the longest year in her life for her to be rid of the traces that Harge left in her life.

“She does, doesn’t she? She’s becoming quite a handful.” Rindy grabbed her rattle and put the handle on her mouth. “I can’t wait until she’s babbling words.”

“Who’s the cutest baby? Who has the plumpest red cheeks? Who has the prettiest eyes?” The smitten lady uttered in a high-pitched voice. Rindy did have her mother’s piercing gray eyes. 

On the corner of her eye, Carol saw a colorful flyer on the edge of Jillian’s desk and moved closer to look at it.  

The flyer read:

 

 

> **time || is || ephemeral**
> 
> A Solo Exhibition
> 
>  
> 
> **THERESE BELIVET**
> 
>  
> 
> Highsmith Hall at the Robichek Modern
> 
> _Bankside, London SE1 9TG,_
> 
> _United Kingdom_
> 
>  
> 
> Meet the artist on opening night
> 
> 19:00 ~ 21:00
> 
> **2014.01.11**
> 
>  
> 
> General Viewing:
> 
> **2014.01.12 ~ 2014. 02. 02.**
> 
>  
> 
> For more information, contact us:
> 
> +44 20 7946 0019
> 
> talkart@robichekmodern.co.uk

 

Carol’s heart leapt. Was this really Therese? Was she having her own exhibition tonight? _How time flies fast indeed,_ she said to herself. Unknowingly, Carol digressed with the conversation that she and Jillian were having.

“Jillian? What is this?” Carol waved the piece of paper.

“Oh! A few of my friends and I are going to that gallery thing tonight at the Robichek. A friend got me a ticket. I’m only going because there’s free champagne.” The young lady shook Rindy’s toy rattle while giggling and the infant cooed.

“Do you know the artist?” It was far-fetched given the reason why Jillian was going to the event, but maybe she knew a bit about Therese.

“I honestly have no idea who she is.”

What response was Carol expecting anyway? If Jillian did know Therese, would she have pried on Therese through her? Would she have had the courage to ask her to let her come with her to the exhibition? Carol suddenly felt overwhelmed from the thoughts of Therese flooding her mind.

“Drink a lot of champagne tonight then, darling.” 

Back at her loft in Westminster, Carol thoroughly considered going to Therese’s exhibition. _Just a glimpse._ She said. _There’s really nothing wrong with that._ She just wanted to see Therese’s artworks. But who was she kidding? She wanted to see no one but Therese herself. After all these years, she was curious about how the brunette looked like, how she was now, and if she still had a chance to mend things with her. She had no idea about the present Therese. The young woman would have greatly changed, Carol was sure. She too wasn’t the same person when they first met-- quite a tragedy now, she dwindled herself. But who would babysit for Rindy if she did go? The odds were telling her not to go and she probably wouldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to find a babysitter late at this hour. If she hadn’t gone back to the office to grab a few things, she wouldn’t have known that Therese was in town. She wouldn't have to be faced with troubling over if she had to go see Therese or not.  _What are the odds indeed_ , Carol thought to herself.

* * *

The people started pouring in at Highsmith Hall in the Robichek Modern just before the clock struck seven in the evening. Therese didn’t want to overdress so she was donned in a long brown tweed jacket, a crisp blouse, black leggings and her signature heeled combat boots. Hours ago, she and Genevieve fought about what outfit Therese would wear for the night. Genevieve wanted Therese to wear a dress but Therese insisted on wearing something comfortable instead-- only because she was nervous for the event and she was certain she wouldn’t get through the night with the constant attention directed to her. She was not used to being in the limelight. She shied away from it. In the end, the pair made amends. Genevieve didn’t want to ruin Therese’s special night.

It meant so much for Therese that the closest people in her life were present in her exhibition. Abby flew from New York last night. As always, her friend looked dapper in a suit. _There might be a few gorgeous art ladies around,_ she whispered to Therese when she gave her a hug. Dannie, on the other hand, brought a few friends with him-- one of them, a girl named Jillian.

Therese worked the room with plenty of people endlessly curious about her and her work. Where was she from? What media did she usually work with? Was she accepting commissions? Who was her influence? Was Genevieve her muse? There was a difference between a lover and a muse, Therese thought. The lover was to provide emotional support. The muse, inspirational support. Were they two separate individuals? They could be. But was it possible for a lover and a muse to be just one person? It could be, and to her that seemed to be an artist's dream. Passion combined with love would be such a tenacious force. Therese gazed at the seven panels of watercolor sketches that she made while reeling in from the heartbreak years ago. All those feelings seemed distant to her now. _No one has to know,_ she told herself when a graying man asked her about the inspiration to the central pieces of her exhibition: _Lady in the Red #1-#7.  
_ “William, is it?” Therese restated the man’s name. The man nodded. “Well, that’s the wonderful thing about art. Your interpretation of the piece matters just as much my intention for it. The woman in the pieces may be simply someone you know in your own life. In the end, the emotions you have for it is where the inspiration dwells.” Therese just deflected the question. She’ll get used to giving ambiguous answers to that one simple question: _what’s the inspiration for this piece?_ No one has to know that Carol was her perpetual muse.

The night wore on and Therese felt enervated from being too social. She might need to get used to all of this if she were to have more exhibition. It would be just night after night of sucking it in. While Therese was talking to a few people about her installation piece, Sylvia, the curator, approached her.

“Therese it’s time for you to give your speech,” Sylvia whispered to her.

Therese drank her glass of champagne in one swig. She dreaded speaking in public. The socialization part of the exhibition was something she definitely wasn't too fond of.

“May I have everyone’s attention,” The redhead called. “In behalf of the Robichek Modern, we would like to express our gratitude to everyone present tonight. Our exhibition will be open to the general public from tomorrow until the second of February. We still have an hour ago before the night ends so may we now have a few words from the genius behind the magnificent pieces, Miss Therese Belivet.”

The hall roared with applause. Dannie hollered and Abby whistled. Therese knew her friends were having fun tonight. The artist stepped beside Sylvia.

“Hey,” Therese gave a little wave and the crowd laughed a bit. “Should I get used to this now?” They were amused with Therese’s awkwardness. Therese cleared her throat before she continued, “I want to thank everyone for being here tonight because this is my first exhibition… as an artist.” She saw Genevieve from the corner of her eye giving her the brightest smile. “I started selling my art at a street in New York City without any formal training around six years ago. I never thought I’d be having my own exhibitions, let alone in an institution as renowned as the Robichek Modern.” Therese took a deep breath and looked at Abby who gave her a thumbs up. “‘Time is ephemeral’ is a collection of the moments that let us feel like time is standing still for us. Time is fleeting, but there are moments that stick to us that it seems like it’s never bound by time. With it is the realization of things that may outlive it, of things that might not change because simply they are not bound by time.”

“Did you teach that crazy philosophical shit to her?” Genevieve whispered to Dannie.

“That’s all her, Gen.” But Dannie prided himself in the probable influence he had in his friend.

“Perhaps the feelings ingrained in those moments go on to live on forever.” Therese gazed at the seven panels in one corner of the room which consisted of the artworks that she once gave to Dannie.  The silhouettes of the woman who once filled her life with love seemingly stared back at her. “The passion I laid out on each of the pieces would even outlive me, but the simple takeaway from this is: time is ephemeral so while we have time in our side, let’s try to make the best out of it.” The hall echoed with ovation once more. Dannie might have shed a tear with Therese’s speech.

“Therese, dear,” Mrs. Robichek enthusiastically approached the woman of the night. “That was a splendid job! What a turn out this is!” They both looked around and the number of guests hadn’t waned. Most of them are probably here for the champagne and free food, Therese thought.

“I’m calling it a night. You know people my age.” The old woman chuckled. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask Sylvia.”

Therese nodded and Mrs. Robichek hugged Therese.

“This is just the start of your magnificent career, Miss Belivet.”

* * *

It was half past nine in the evening and Carol was on her computer working on something, but her mind was elsewhere. Her mind constantly drifted to Therese. _30 minutes left in the exhibition._ This was probably the only night that she could ever see Therese again. She checked on Rindy who was angelically fast asleep in her crib. Carol caressed the little girl’s cheek.

“There are things we do for love that we don’t quite understand.” She whispered as she dawned on a whim. Carol knocked on her neighbor’s door. They were a young couple who had a toddler. She asked them if she could leave Rindy in their care for a while since there was an emergency. They happily obliged. Carol didn’t have time to dress up so she just grabbed a coat and hailed a cab headed to the Bankside.

Carol reluctantly ascended the stairs leading to the lobby of the Robichek Modern. Two streamers were placed in the pillars of the entrance-- one of the museum's logo and the other of Therese’s exhibition.

“Ma’am, we’re closing in ten minutes and we’re not allowing people inside anymore.” The usher by the entrance told her.

“I’ll just be quick. Please. I’ll be in and out. I’m willing to pay the entrance fee.”

“I’m really sorry, but we’re not allowing anyone in anymore for security reasons.” The man was unswayed.

Carol tried to peek inside but there was nothing much to see. She turned around and cursed under her breath. She went all the way to the Robichek for nothing. She suddenly wanted to smoke a cigarette but she forgot her pack back at her loft.

* * *

The event ended and most of the people had already gone home. Abby was invited for drinks by a woman. Dannie and his friends went to his bar. Genevieve and Therese was headed back to their hotel. Genevieve insisted on having late dinner but Therese was too exhausted that she just wanted to collapse on the bed. Before the car could sprint away, 

“Wait!” Therese shouted. “I forgot something.” Therese realized that she didn’t have her purse with her and she might have left it in the gallery.

“I won’t be long.” Therese told Genevieve as she ran through the cold and back inside to the building. She passed by the back entrance towards the offices instead since she knew the main entrance was closed now.

When she got to the hall, she saw Sylvia was still there talking to a few other people from the gallery. They flooded her with commendations before Sylvia could say,  “Forgot your purse, didn’t you?”

“I did!” Therese giggled as Sylvia handed her the silver clutch. “Thank you so much.”

“Ah, artists… always thinking of ideas they forget the simplest of things…”

Therese just grinned.

“I’ll see you in a week?”

“Yep.”

“Have a safe trip back in New York!” The redhead hugged Therese and continued talking to the group. Therese quickly ran across the street to where the car was parked.

“Is everything here now?” Genevieve asked.

Therese looked around and checked once more.

“Everything's here.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Carol paused in front of the edifice of Robichek Modern. A sullen expression was clearly painted on her face. Snow was falling ever so lightly over the streets, some of it getting tangled on her locks. As Carol turned around to wait for a cab, a woman in a brown tweed coat running across the street caught her sight.  

_Therese._

She mouthed the name under her breath, visible in the cold London air. She wanted to call out to her louder but no words were coming out.

* * *

“To the Bloomsbury please.” Genevieve directed the driver and he started the engine once more. The blonde reached for Therese’s hand and the couple’s eyes met. They exchanged smiles and Genevieve gave a peck on Therese’s cheek. As Therese looked out into the streets a seemingly familiar face appeared. Through the fogged windows of the car, a tall blonde stood in the pavement across with her arms clutching the sleeves of her coat. Therese felt the woman staring back at her but she couldn’t get a clear view of her. Her heart began pounding so heavily she thought it echoed through the compact space of the vehicle. She cleared up the window with her palm to get a better glimpse but the car suddenly pulled away. _Those eyes._ Therese said to herself. _Those gray eyes._ She knew them. She had looked into them longingly for a million times. Her gaze followed the woman in question even as the car turned the next block.

“Something wrong, babe?” Genevieve noticed the uneasiness in the brunette.

“I thought…” Therese stuttered. “Maybe…” Therese wanted to stop the car but she remembered than she hadn’t told Genevieve about her once great love before her. “Nevermind.” She pretended that it didn’t matter, but she knew she wouldn’t stop thinking about it well into the night… or for the days to come. She was uncertain if the person she had seen was Carol. _Was it really her?_ Therese pondered. _Did Carol come to see her in such an important night?_ The city lights flickered as the car rushed swiftly in the snow-laden streets of London. A bittersweet feeling sunk inside her. She looked at Genevieve who looked radiant as the lights hit her face beautifully underneath the shadow of the night. They didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the ride. Therese didn’t want to anymore. She was exhausted, but her mind was floating away to the though of Carol. She let go of Genevieve’s hand.

* * *

Carol stood at the pavement outside Robichek Modern, lingering until she came back to her consciousness. Her hands trembled in the cold, but mostly, they trembled at the thought that she missed the chance to speak to Therese. She saw Therese, and she was certain that Therese saw her too. Time may be ephemeral, but there was nothing fleeting in the way that she found affinity in that single, abrupt moment when her eyes met with Therese’s. After all those years of not having seen each other, of having been apart, Carol’s feelings for Therese was never ephemeral. It stayed with her all this time, and it would only grow with the ringing thought in her mind [and her heart] that she will have no other love greater than Therese.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a playlist for each of the characters in the fic-- kind of like the soundtrack for it. Click on the links in the page where you'll be directed to. Here's the playlist:  
> http://theresebelivetsgayhat.tumblr.com/post/142539142576/vacancy-carol-former-lovers-au-complete-fanmix
> 
> Next update will be on Saturgay. Just one update for next week since I'm getting my shit together with life. :D


	10. Lights and Camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Therese's exhibition, she returns to New York with the art world's spotlight on her. One night, she confesses to Abby that she might have seen Carol during the exhibition night. Abby confesses something about Carol too. Meanwhile, Carol finally comes to see Therese's exhibition. She's convinced that Therese still has feelings for her after all this time due to her artworks. Months later when her divorce with Harge had been finalized, she takes a leap of faith to come back to the place she once found love across the Atlantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Dengel :)

Snow began falling heavily over the restless city of London days after the fateful evening in Robichek Modern. Clad in a mink coat to brave the winter cold, Carol got ready for the usual hectic day ahead of her. With little Rindy strapped to her baby seat on the passenger side of the car, the woman drove past the streets of Westminster to get to her workplace. It was just a typical start of the week. She really had nothing to look forward to except for the weekend [or so she thought]. As she drove through, the view of the edifices both old and new were banal to her. She wished, even for just a few seconds, that the same young brunette she saw days ago would saunter the streets once more to find that she was still here waiting for her.

Upon arriving in the office, Carol saw Jillian decluttering the desk with what seems to be heaps and heaps of documents. The young woman was there early and greeted her with a huge smile even with chaos that fronted her.

“Good morning, Mrs. Aird!” The young woman turned to the infant in the blonde’s arms, “And hello to you too, Rindy-kins!”

“These are for you…” Jillian handed Carol a stack of the mail that arrived for her. Some were documents from work. The others, documents perhaps for the divorce that she had filed for two months ago.

“Thank you, Jill.”

“You’re welcome Mrs. Aird!”

Before she headed to her office, she turned to the receptionist one more time. With a hint of hesitation in her voice, Carol asked:

“How was the exhibition last Saturday by the way?”

“Oh, the exhibit? It was incredible Mrs. Aird! I know I told you that I only went there for the free champagne” she giggled. _What an absurd reason to go._ Carol remembered thinking to herself when Jillian made that remark. Therese was ingenious and Carol wholeheartedly believed in the young artist’s capabilities. “But my friend wasn’t really lying when he told me the artist was extremely talented. Not to mention, she was hot too.” A smile from the corner of Carol’s lips sneakily appeared. That’s _my_ Therese. She said in her mind. Having conversations about Therese or even the single mention of the artist’s name usually lightened up her mood. _Therese_ , spilling out from her lips or hearing it from someone else would instantaneously make her heart leap. A tinge of bittersweet happiness dawned on her unfailingly with that name since it was now quite undeniable for her that Therese was the only person she could long for this way.

“Anyway, Mrs. Aird, I think you should go see the exhibit too.”

“I suppose I could come see it for a while during my break time.” Carol pretended to sound nonchalant about it, as if it was something trivial to go see the works of an artist-- an artist that she perhaps doesn’t know. “Would you mind looking after Rindy for a while by then? I’ll bring by you some coffee and donuts when I come back.”

“With or without the treats, I wouldn’t mind it! Rindy is an absolute angel.” Jillian gleefully retorted.

Carol gave a nod to the young woman and smiled. She was already looking forward to her break time.

* * *

It was quarter before one in the afternoon when Carol left her office. She had an hour or more to spare of her break to view Therese’s exhibition. The bleak atmosphere of winter wasn’t a deterrence to the warmth that Carol was feeling within her. She was to see her former lover’s works--something she hasn’t done in years. This was the closest she could get to her. Carol once remembered a time when she and Therese were still together. It was typical for her to find Therese around the wee hours of the morning still laboring on a new project. When the blonde had woken up from her sleep to  get a glass of water, Therese was in her workspace sketching something-- still in the same spot before she headed to bed the night before. She got another glass of water and placed it on Therese’s desk. The young woman smiled and kissed her lover’s cheek before she turned her focus back to her task. Carol stood behind the brunette and studied what she was sketching. It was a blue barn swallow wrapped in a geometric pattern from its chest down. A pile of other sketches of birds with the same theme were scattered on the floor. They were splashed with vibrant watercolors. It was after all, Therese’s favorite medium to work with.

Carol closed the gap between her and Therese as she tucked the artist’s tousled locks behind her ear before gently sliding her hands on the young woman’s shoulders. She gave a peck on the young woman’s temple.

“I know you love your art more than you love me.” Carol jokingly said.

The half truth in Carol’s statement made Therese turn around and gaze at the eyes of her lover.  
“What do you mean, babe?”

“If I had to map your art, I know I’ll be making a map to your heart.” Carol understood that this was Therese’s passion. Although the young artist was yet to thrive in her own field, Carol was Therese’s biggest  fan back then-- until the woman failed to see her best qualities in the distance that came between then and the ambition that blinded her of what her happiness truly was. Therese knew what Carol meant with that aphoristic line, but what the older woman didn’t realize was that she was the muse to all of Therese’s work. Her art became even more alive because she was inspired by the beauty and the love of the blonde. Carol began making a trail of kisses from the back of Therese’s ear down to her neck and collarbones. “Come and lie down with me, darling. You’re tired.”

Carol snapped back to reality as she found herself standing before the Robichek Modern-- to where she stood overlooking Therese as the car pulled away. Just like that, the sentiments from long ago were ready to haunt Carol once more. The thing was, Carol had the choice to deflect these memories or think about them with contempt. But there she was, embracing them, entertaining them as if love would someday loom anew to both of them. Carol was hopeful. She always was.

This time around as Carol ascended the stairs of the Robichek Modern, there was no apprehension brewing within her. She was actually very eager to see Therese’s works. She passed through the lobby and down to a corridor where Highsmith Hall was. A signage read “Time is Ephemeral by Therese Belivet.” Upon entering the hall she was immediately greeted by seven watercolor sketches of urban landscapes in London. Although the media used seems to be of only watercolor, the pieces were exceptionally detailed. An onlooker would actually be fooled into thinking it was anything but that. Carol studied them meticulously, carefully looking at each panel with the eye of someone who seems to be searching for something. But she didn’t have to search for anything closer. Right then and there, she noticed a female figure in red omnipresent in the paintings-- blonde hair, sullen gray eyes and the unmistakable stature that convince her that she was the figure in red. It left her breathless for a while. It took time before it settled within her that she was the woman in the paintings. _But it certainly can’t be, couldn’t it?_ Carol thought to herself. She moved onto another artwork in the room, a messy installation piece laid out on the corner of the room. It was something that she hadn’t thought of Therese ever creating. It was just a disheveled off-white ensemble of a twin-sized bed. It was full of all sorts of clutter around it; The pillow was stained and the dusty blanket was draping on the floor. A handful of drawings were torn apart and lying on the side of the bed. There were so many other chaotic things that surrounded the piece--empty bottles, shards of broken glass and even clippings of hair. Carol didn’t understand how such a thing could be called art. She hadn’t thought of Therese creating _this_ type of abstract art. But then she noticed a crisp red coat, the one similar in the seven watercolor sketches at the entrance of the room, placed neatly at the foot of the bed as if someone had laid it out there intentionally for her to wear it.

_“The Time of Waiting,”_ the label read.

The ambiguity of the artwork might puzzle most onlookers, but Carol understood what Therese was portraying with it. Carol surmised that this was the state that Therese was in when they had broken up. She was an utter mess when she was waiting for her love to come back. The hope that Carol would return to her was the only thing she had going on her life back then. The woman was now certain that Therese still might have feelings for her.

**4 April 2014**

Spring finally came after the cold winter days. During Carol’s day off, she headed to a bookstore chain down at SoHo to buy children’s books to read for Rindy. As if the universe wants her to keep taking notice of Therese, Carol caught a glance of Therese on the cover of a contemporary art magazine from the stands. The cover was in black and white. Therese was sitting oddly on top of the backrest of a worn out chair while smoking a cigarette. A gigantic easel was behind her. In the cover it said:

_Aesthetica Art Prize Winner: Therese Belivet  
_ _and her groundbreaking Smoke and Mirrors installation_

Without thinking twice, Carol bought the magazine along with a few of the books she intended to buy beforehand. Therese’s exhibition in Robichek Modern probably opened up a lot of opportunities for her. She was finally getting the recognition that she deserved.

As soon as Carol arrived home, she browsed the pages with photos of the young woman herself and her art installation beside her. Therese looked so different now, she thought. Her facial features became more defined; her cheekbones, her jawline, her thin lips-- they became more striking. Her green piercing eyes were just as beautiful.

Carol began to read parts of the interview.

 

> **Aesthetica:** _“Can you tell us what Smoke and Mirrors is all about?”_
> 
> **Therese Belivet:** “The installation expounds on the metaphor of the distortion of truth--from the idiomatic expression itself. The panels of glass are in the middle of the room and the images distort from different perspectives due to the light and the smoke effect in the room.”
> 
> **A:** _“We heard that you worked on this for three months which is impeccable! What’s the inspiration behind this sizable piece?”_
> 
> **T.B.:** “It is quite sizable isn’t it? [laughs] I just came back from London at that time, and I can’t get the idea out of my head so I worked days on end for it. It’s more of an experience than being art that you could look at.”

Therese didn’t answer the question, Carol thought. She seemed to evade queries that asked her to delve deep into her art-- as if she was keeping something a secret.

 

> **A:** _“It’s always amazing to hear what the artist’s intended meaning for the piece is. So what does this experience want to extend to the viewers.”_
> 
> **T.B.:** It’s about not knowing if what you see is real or what you feel could be real. It’s simple as that.”

Carol began to think that her installation piece was inspired by that time they almost met each other last January during her exhibition-- a hazy and haphazard meeting that to both of them may or may not have happened. Or maybe it was just all in her mind. She continued reading.

 

> _Catch Smoke and Mirrors in these limited dates and gallery venues:_
> 
> 8 June - 30 June -- Robichek Modern; London, UK  
>  13 July - 1 August -- La Maison Gris; Paris, France  
>  29 August - 17 September -- Galerie X12T; Prague, Czech Republic  
> 1 October onwards (permanently) -- Lee, Ash & Sohn Gallery of Contemporary Art; New York City, USA

**20 July 2014**

Therese has had a hectic schedule in the previous months. Tomorrow was Therese’s birthday but Abby was insistent that they had a night out together before she was to leave tomorrow to meet a client in Washington D.C. Genevieve was off to a dinner party with a few of her friends from the Philharmonic that night. Therese didn’t want to come. She hated crowds. She felt dwarfed in the overwhelming presence of too many people. Abby brought Therese in a rooftop lounge in Manhattan overlooking the skyscrapers of the city. Abby raised a glass for Therese.

“To another year of art and greatness. Happy birthday to an overwhelmingly talented dork-- To you, Therese.” The two clinked glasses and fell silent for a while. They both gazed at the sweeping views of the skyline. Therese was impressed that Abby brought her here. There was something looming in her mind that she was still doubtful about telling her friend. It slipped through her mouth.

“I know months had already passed since the exhibition in London,” Therese pondered cautiously whether she should tell Abby about it-- whether she should say something about Carol. Abby waited for Therese to answer and watched her down half of her martini in one go. “I never told you this but I think I saw Carol when we left the Robichek Modern during opening night.”

Abby was taken aback. She never thought they’d see each other again, although she knew Carol would have the audacity to come see Therese at that time since she deflected any question she had had about Therese. Abby didn’t even know that Carol was aware of Therese’s exhibition.

“Was it really her?” She leaned closer to Therese and looked her in the eye.  
“My heart was pounding so hard that I knew it just had to be her.” _Blonde hair. Beautiful pale grey eyes. High cheekbones and crimsoned lips. It had to be her._ Therese thought to herself but she suddenly felt as if she was ready to divulge much of herself-- of the part that might still long for her lost love. She became aware of it and wanted to retract whatever she said into subtler words. Abby might take it another way. “I mean, I think I was mostly shocked because I haven’t seen her in years… but maybe it’s just probably me making up illusions inside my head.”

Abby nodded but she sensed Therese’s uneasiness in her answer.

“Would you have said something to her if she was right in front of you?” Her friend challenged.

“I don’t know, Abby. What would I even tell her? I’m not sure if I have things I want to tell her.” But Therese did however had a long list of things she wanted to tell or ask Carol. She wouldn’t know where to begin. She would perhaps just stutter, stumble and fall in her own words, unable to make sense of what her mind [or her heart] would even want to tell. Therese now gazed at Abby who was staring at her blankly. She couldn’t decipher what the woman wished to say. The silence between them was prolonged which unnerved Therese a bit.

“I have a confession too.” Abby finally spoke.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been in contact with Carol for the past year.” Abby could swear that she saw Therese’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I could see you happy with Gen now and I thought it was unnecessary to say it.”

Therese had a hunch that Abby was still in contact with her friend. Her bewildered look was more for an “I knew it!” type of effect. She knew Carol and Abby’s friendship was undoubtedly worth saving. The two were practically sisters and letting go of a friendship just because Carol broke up with her was preposterous.

“No. I understand. You’ve been through a lot together. I wouldn’t have met you if she hadn’t introduced us.” Therese was oddly not dazed about it, but perhaps she was feigning that she was completely fine with it. Abby wasn’t entirely sure.  “It doesn’t really matter, Abby.” Therese continued, “I’m happy now. I hope she is too.”

Abby could tell that her friend came along way from where she had been years before. Yet, Abby still didn’t have the heart to tell Therese everything about Carol of the things she was going through right now. Tomorrow was Therese’s special day after all and she didn’t want her brooding about something that she had nothing to be worried about. The older woman just raised her glass for a toast, “I hope she is.”

**31 July 2014**

Summer finally came. The surge of warmth spreading in the city was unequivocal to the news that Carol had received that day. She waited for a while until quarter past ten in the evening in London when Carol excitedly phoned her friend Abby. The corporate lawyer was probably just getting out of the office and heading home to her apartment in Manhattan at that time. But Carol couldn’t help it. She had great news and she wanted Abby to know it foremost. It took several rings before Abby picked up.

“Carol!” The woman seemed to be in high spirits.

“Abby, dear. I have something splendid to tell you.” The two had seemingly foregone how their usual chats began. She didn’t let even Abby speak before the words came out of her mouth. “My divorce with Harge has been settled!”

“This is terrific news! Finally!” Abby exclaimed. “You have full custody of Rindy?”

“Full custody. No less.” Carol was feeling quite proud of herself. “And one more thing and it’s something better than my divorce.”

“Can there possibly be any better news than that? Okay, what is it?” Abby anticipated for the other bombshell that Carol was to drop.

“I’ve had my interview with Columbia University last month.”

_And?_ Abby was getting agitated. She was a bit impatient and wanted to hear it already. She could hear her friend taking a deep breath on the other end of the line.

“Abby, I’m moving back to New York on fall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for the long overdue update, but I'll be on full swing with ALL of my fics in the coming week.  
> Also, shamelessly plugging my other fic, "Detour." If you haven't read it, here's a link to it:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6533959/chapters/14947870  
> And yes, I haven't forgot about the Coffee Shop AU fic. ^^v There are three remaining chapters for it and I'm still weighing a lot of my options in how I would end it in a way that you guys will enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you to the handful of people showing their concern for me through *cough* sassy *cough* comments, asks and e-mails in the past week asking me where I am or if I'm doing alright. You guys are awesome. I love the sass too lol Yes, I am doing better than fine. I will not abandon my fics. Thank you for being patient! <3


	11. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the fall semester begins, Carol finally comes back to New York for good but this time around she has little Rindy by her side. A lot has changed after she left the city half a decade ago, but she was willing to give the fresh new start a try. With a renewed sense of faith, little does she know that her move will bring her to a grander tailspin of emotions. Therese, on the other hand, prepares for a joint exhibition with other artists on November. She is confronted by a daunting question from Genevieve that she thought she'd never ask. Bonus: Carol as a fangirl :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Sorry for the hold up. I'm currently applying for grad school and a fellowship (and we all know how stressful applications can be) that's why it's difficult for me to focus on the fics-- so I'll be posting updates in my convenient time rather than the usual schedule until I finish all of my shenanigans. I hope you guys understand, and I'm really trying my best here. Yes, feel free to wish me luck for the umpteenth time (so I can finish my apps quick and I can finally write the fics in their regular schedule lol) Thaaaanks!

**2 September 2014**

_4:07 PM_

_Heathrow Airport, London_

The runways of the airport were glossed with the rain that streaked the city just moments ago. Numerous planes have touched down and departed, flying through the cloud-laden concrete skies of London until they disappeared from plain sight. Carol mindlessly watched them through the glass windows of the cramped boarding area, guessing where each plane’s destination would be, where each passenger was headed to. Some were probably headed for last minute vacations under the sunny skies of a tropical paradise. Perhaps some were in uneventful business trips that they’ve taken one too many times, or maybe part of the crowd clustered in the packed boarding area were simply headed home. Wherever home was, Carol knew it was no longer here in London for her. Although technically she was still a bona fide citizen of the country, she couldn’t help but think that here was not the place she used to feel free and safe in anymore. She knew she needed a fresh start-- and perhaps moving to a distant and probably not so foreign city that once welcomed her openly was the perfect place to be in.

New York City.

In her younger years when she used to travel often to NYC, she was desensitized from hearing the grandeur of that global city. She would admit that she was filled with awe on her first visits, but then she grew to be completely accustomed to the city-- like it was nothing new to her and she grew tired of its glitz and glamor. But she had been away from the city for a couple of years now so whenever she muttered the name of the city in her mind, there was something inside her that felt like lighting up. Whether it was because she was going to start anew, or she had to relive good memories-- perhaps some the bad too, she couldn’t deny that she was excited as ever to come back to New York. People in New York were different from all people in the places she had lived in. New Yorkers seemed to have a grit in them that she couldn’t fathom whether she herself adored or despised. Abby was the epitome of it on the first they met. Therese however was somehow different from it. She was broke off from her trance when the counter finally opened for boarding. Business class and with an infant -- of course, she had to be one of the first to queue up. She gazed at her one-year old daughter sleeping peacefully in her arms. The little girl was snuggled in a small sea foam green fleece blanket. Carol placed a soft kiss on Rindy’s forehead before heading to the counter and ultimately, boarding the plane that would take her to New York, that would take her to her new home.

_00:42 AM_

_John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York_

After the plane had touched down and the grueling airport concourse was done, Carol noticed that the night was still alive with the bright city lights just like how she remembered New York years ago. Flights were exhausting even though one was just sitting for hours on end in a vehicle miles and miles up from the ground. Rindy was well-behaved all throughout the flight. She wasn’t throwing any tantrums or crying miserably which would have disrupted the other passengers. The flight attendants were actually in awe of the beautiful little baby. Abby was supposed to pick them up that night but she busy was once again in D.C. to fix a few things for her case. She was terribly sorry that she couldn’t be there when the mother and child finally touched down to New York. Carol understood the way Abby was in the zone with her career. She was once in that state herself. Instead of renting out a private car to bring her to Manhattan, she wanted to take a cab. She was oddly delighted at the sight of yellow cabs all in file at the stands waiting for passengers. She was like someone who stepped into New York for the first time all over again. Everything delighted her senses. With a baby strapped to her chest and another bag hanging for her back while she dragged a luggage set, she felt like Wonder Woman, and independent woman who was ready to take on any challenge in the world.

The cab rushed through the avenues of New York City and she oddly wanted to feel the wind coursing through her hair and on her palms. She knew it was a preposterous thing too feel, but that was how one usually felt when they were under the spell of new hopes and new beginnings in a new home. The apartment that they were going to live in was not yet furnished; they had no furniture and appliances yet, so they were to stay in a hotel for a few days. The cab dropped them off at the Langham Place at Fifth Avenue. When the mother and child got to their hotel room, she put her baby in the comfort of the bed first and enjoyed the silence of the space.. She then walked towards the windows and looked out. She could get a beautiful view of the city. The Big Apple created a grid of lights in the night where the darkness and the concrete urban jungle mingled to create a spectacle. She could still feel her excitement pulsing through her veins. _Your heart knows its way home,_ she thought to herself. It was indeed the eve of something beautiful.

* * *

Three days after Carol and Rindy settled in New York, a shipment of their belongings from London finally arrived. They moved into the apartment near campus that the university helped her secure before she landed in the city. During the weekend, Abby came by just in time to help out with fixing Carol’s new place. The boxes were carefully labeled-- from Carol’s law books, to paintings and photographs, some of their clothes and a few of their small furniture deemed to be valuable. Abby opened the box labeled with “law books.” She began stowing them away in the shelves by the corner of the living room. Inside it was an inconspicuous small box that was labeled with “Important Ceramics-- Breakable/Fragile.”

“Where do we put the ceramics?” Abby held up the box and Carol’s eyes grew wide. Her heart raced, and before any words could fly out of her mouth, she ran towards Abby and grabbed the box from the unknowing woman.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle them later.”

The way Carol seized the box from Abby’s hands with a tinge of animosity unnerved her a bit. What was so important about it that she didn’t want Abby to handle it? Nevertheless, Abby just shrugged. She continued dusting off and arranging the books on the shelves by volume, color and size. When Carol noticed that Abby had her back turned against her, she opened the box and was relieved that the contents of it were still there untouched. She placed it on top of the other crates and resumed to assembling another shelf she got from IKEA. While Rindy was toddling around the space gripping the sides and corners of furnitures and boxes, the little one accidentally knocked off some of the boxes-- which included the one labeled as “Important Ceramics.” Upon seeing it, Abby gasped very audibly. She thought the valuable contents of the box would shatter into pieces. But instead of the sound of fragile materials breaking, a loud single thud echoed in the space and a few things spilled out of the box. Scattered on the floor were five art magazines where Therese was artistically on the cover, an envelope of a few newspaper and magazine clippings of which Abby could only surmise was Therese as the main focus of, and there were also posters and ads of Therese’s art exhibitions all over Europe. Carol went to see all of them--no doubt. Even if she had seen the same artwork in a different city, she wanted to see Therese’s work over and over again. In that way, she felt like she was apologizing to a thing that never was-- and she wanted to be closer to Therese. She still had the hope that Therese might take her back in. Carol tried to cover it up but it was too late. Abby saw it in plain sight but she didn’t say anything. She stood there like a deer caught in headlights, but she immediately turned away at the sight of her friend flustered as she frantically gathered the things littered on the floor. She felt second-hand embarrassment to what had transpired. Abby still didn’t have the nerve to tell her friend about Therese and her girlfriend, Genevieve. A true friend always told the truth-- Abby was going to tell her, but she felt it wasn’t the right moment yet. Besides, she thought, what are the possibilities of Carol and Therese running into each other in such awkward and least likely possible circumstances? The two women carried on with their tasks and pretended that nothing happened. They wouldn’t talk about what had happened for years to come.

**5 October 2014**

Deep into an autumn night, Therese was working on her contribution for a collaborative installation piece with other artists. The piece was to be displayed at Bryant Park. They had to put up their piece before the foliage drastically changed this autumn. She took a break for a while and watched her lover, Genevieve, practice her violin by the moonlit window pane. Genevieve peculiarly practiced in the dark. She said it heightened and ignited her senses better, which in turn, made her hear and feel the music she was playing with more depth. Artists were quirky-- that was something she knew first hand because she had quite a few of them too. But practicing in the dark, that was one of Genevieve’s prominent quirk. The New York Philharmonic was playing Strauss and Profokiev for the upcoming season. Genevieve was actually not the biggest fan of Strauss. Although she was slightly unimpressed with the repertoire they were playing for the first half of the season, she was eager to perform a solo on stage once more with a former colleague of hers back when she was still living in Central Europe. A brilliant pianist by the name of Shoji Terajima will be a guest performer in the next season of the Philharmonic.

Therese gazed at her lover’s silhouette by the subtly illuminated window pane. The blonde swiftly moved along with the melody she hummed with the strings. Genevieve would stop whenever she made a mistake or she wasn’t satisfied with the way she played a certain measure or two. She was quite a perfectionist-- and that may conceivably be one of the reasons why she was the best even with her considerable young age in the field. But Therese too was rising in her own field. She was finally getting the recognition that she deserved. She had no formal training like Genevieve but she equaled her in her dedication and pursuit of her passion-- and maybe that’s why they got along so well. In the dimness of the room, Genevieve finally noticed Therese observing her. They had been together for more than two years now and it still astonished Therese how Genevieve could look at her with the same admiration that she did before. _This magnificent human being is in love with me,_ Therese said in her mind with a pinch of disbelief in her declaration. “Terry?” The blonde called out.

“Carry on. I’m just taking a break for a while.”

Genevieve switched on the lights and walked over to where Therese sat. She placed her violin and bow on a nearby table before leaving a kiss on the brunette’s cheek. She then checked the time and was surprised that it was half past two in the morning already. Good thing the apartment was soundproof. Genevieve didn’t want to bother their neighbors whenever she rehearsed even unwittingly way into the wee hours of the morning.

“Taking a break? Both of us should be going to bed now.”

“I’ll just take another hour to finish off something then we could go sleep.”

“Don’t rush. You still have a few weeks to finish your piece… and well, I do too.”

Genevieve began putting back her musical instrument back to its case.

“All right. I’ll just clean up then and I’ll follow after you.”

“Make sure you do, babe.” Genevieve winked at the brunette.

Moments later, Therese slid beside Genevieve who was already warm in bed. She hadn’t noticed her exhaustion until she was met with the comfort of her pillow and blanket. She knew she was going to fall asleep the second she shut her eyes but suddenly, she felt Genevieve’s hands trailing from her bare shoulders to her arm, the calloused tips of her fingers prominent in her touch. She wasn’t in the mood to fool around, and she knew Genevieve wasn’t too.

“Ter? Are you still up?” The blonde whispered.

“Mmhmm.” Therese mumbled lethargically.

The blonde’s hand shifted to the small of the brunette’s waist before bringing her closer to her own body.

“I was wondering, and don’t take this the wrong way…” She still spoke softly yet her voice seemed to echo through the whole room. Her last phrase distressed Therese. She became stiff in her lover’s arms. When someone says _don’t take this the wrong way_ before speaking their intent, something was up.

“I don’t think you’ve ever created an artwork inspired by me… aside from that portrait you did for me on my birthday.”  
“What do you mean?” Therese asked pretentiously, knowing very well what Genevieve meant. Her lover’s statement disconcerted her so she stalled with a thoughtless question of her own. She tried to sound sluggish once more when the words flew out of her mouth, indirectly telling her lover that she just wanted to get some rest. This was not time for pillow talks, she thought.

“Whenever I go to your shows or exhibitions and try to understand what your art portrays, I never see anything that’s related to me. Artists have muse-- that I know. You’re mine… obviously. Who’s yours, babe?”

Therese fell silent. She wanted Genevieve to release her hold on her. She didn’t want the blonde to feel like her heart was going to implode with her interrogation. Therese didn’t want to turn around and look at Genevieve to answer the question.

“Again, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to sound conceited.” The blonde assured her.

_You little fuck. Think of what to respond to her._ Therese said to her now awakened mind. There was a difference between a lover and a muse-- that was something that Therese had learned in the years and had always put to heart. How could she explain to Genevieve that she was just her lover and not her muse? How could she spell it out to her, a person who was driven with the same intensities for art, that the heart and soul of her passion had nothing to do with her? Sure, she drew inspiration from people and the obscure ways on how they philosophize mundane things, but why can’t she draw out a certain form of genius from the love that she receives from Genevieve? That perhaps might be something that her lover won’t understand. It occurred to Therese that love and passion might not emanate from the same place, but it was possible [although it was a rarity] that it could also root from the same space.

“Art doesn’t have to be one thing. It could be everything all at once.”

Just like in her interviews, Therese was always evasive in answering anything about her art. Genevieve rolled her eyes. It perplexed her immensely how Therese could pull the same trick on her. She was familiar with this side of Therese, but she didn’t appreciate it at all. At first, she was tremendously entertained by it, but when Therese did the same thing on her, on someone who was well-meaning of her thoughts and welfare, Genevieve was not happy about it at all. Yet, she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake her off for an answer that would satisfy her. She had to wait for them to come out of her when she felt like saying it. Was this an artistic quirk of Therese? Genevieve was sure before but now she was uncertain. If she wasn’t too tired, this would’ve started a fight and both of them knew.

Therese turned around and took Genevieve into her arms knowing that everything she said stupidly made no sense, but through all of it, she loved her. Her heart settled at the vague sight of her lover in the dim room. She grabbed the blonde’s face and kissed her tenderly. She thought of it as an apology that words could never wield. Genevieve returned it with an even more passionate play on their lips before she laid her head on the brunette’s chest. Therese truly loved Genevieve. She just wasn’t the artist’s muse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Someone asked me if I could make a Facebook group or a Whatsapp chat room for my fics so I could keep everyone updated or you guys could discuss stuff. Are there other people who think this is a good idea? Let me know.


	12. Love No Less Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol is invited by one of her co-faculty members to a classical midnight brunch in NYC’s Wine and Food Festival. Amongst the crowd, a familiar face comes to the limelight. Carol finally comes face to face with Therese after all these years. The reunion is met with mixed feelings and Carol realizes that neither of them were the same since they last met.

**3 November 2014**

In the break of dawn, Therese gazed into the horizon watching the hues of the sky slowly change from a midnight blue to a bright shade of tangerine. She took a small sip from her now cold cup of jasmine tea before placing it down on the window pane. Her gaze lingered over the urban jungle of buildings both broken down and new. She was entranced with the peeking golden trees of autumn lining down the narrow streets of the neighborhood. _How fast time flew_ , she thought. She adjusted the sleeves of her oversized sweater and rubbed her eyes. She hasn’t slept the whole night trying to finish her contribution for the art installation in Bryant Park. It would be showcased for everyone to see in just a few days. They were going to assemble the piece this afternoon. She knew she needed to get some rest so she downed her drink one go and sat at the edge of the bed. She turned her gaze to the naked body of her lover lying just beside her. Her locks, the color of sunshine, gently fell through her angelic face and into the pale white pillows. Therese took off her clothes one by one before she sprawled under the blankets with Genevieve. She beheld her in her gentle caress trailing the side of her lover’s body with the slightest touch of her fingertips before replacing it with her warm lips. The blonde awoke when Therese showered torrential kisses on her neck and collarbones.

“Well, good morning, indeed.” Genevieve laughed. Her voice was still hoarse from sleep. She tried to get Therese off of her but when Therese was being stubborn and didn’t want to stop, Genevieve went on top of Therese and straddled her. She pinned the brunette’s arms as her lips made its own trail of kisses from Therese’s neck, to her breasts and back to her mouth. Therese finally succumbed into the blonde’s touch as she let her finally enter her. Genevieve’s gaze never strayed Therese.

“Tell me you love me.” Genevieve whispered in Therese’s ear, feeling how wet and close the brunette was. Therese, instead of responding, clutched Genevieve’s body closer to hers and stifled her moan into their lips lapping intimately over each other.

* * *

Autumn in New York was one of Carol’s favorite memories of the city--that, she could be well reminded of. It was one of the many things she looked forward to experiencing when she got back to the city. She was given a laid back teaching load for the semester so she still had time to spend with Rindy or help out at Abby’s law firm when she was needed. She made new acquaintances in her workplace as well. One of whom was Frederick Haymes, a flamboyant out gay man in his early 50’s teaching corporate law. Abby knew him since they worked in the same firm for a few years before Abby was offered a better position and pay in her current company. Carol found everyone in the faculty of law very uptight but she liked Fred because he was very forward and funny. He had outrageous comments about things that piqued his interest which made Carol laugh without fail. Fred was very different from the workplace. He seemed very stern with students but outside of it, he was amiable. Being away from New York for such a long time, Fred was one of the few people who helped her get settled in.

“Hey, Carol!” Fred called out as he caught sight of the woman about to leave the campus. “Would you be free on the night of the twelfth? My date bailed on me and I have an extra ticket for an exclusive party in the Food and Wine festival. Wanna come?”

“I’d love to, Fred. But I’m not sure I can find a babysitter for Rindy on such short notice.” It was very thoughtful of Fred to invite her, but she had parental duties. Although she was single, having a child made all the difference. Before, she could go wherever she pleased, attended as many parties and events as she could. It was different now.

“Get Abby to look after that darling little girl. She’d love it! Plus, it’s practice for when she gets a kid of her own.” They both laughed. They knew Abby was the type who didn’t want to settle down just quite yet.

“I’ll call her up tonight then and hopefully she’d say yes.”

“That’s the spirit! I’ll pick you up at quarter to seven then? Bye!” Fred began to walk away before she could hear Carol respond.

“Ok… Wait!” Carol shouted, but Fred didn't’t turn around. “I didn’t say yes yet.”

**12 November 2014**

It was half past seven in the evening when Fred and Carol got to the roof deck party somewhere down by the East River. Abby had agreed to babysit for Rindy. In fact, she was insistent on letting Carol go to the party so she could settle in more to the city. The event had already began as appetizers were already being served. An usherette immediately asked for their names.

“Frederick Haymes and guest,” the man said with a festive tone.

“Right this way, Sir and Ma’am.” The young lady led them to a table with four other guests already seated. Fred introduced Carol to each of them. Two were professors from a neighboring university from Columbia and the rest were from a fashion publication company. After they had taken their seats, Carol’s eyes wandered around the space. Incandescent fairy lights hung overhead and were wound into the standalone wooden beams. Candles were lit beside vintage lanterns as centerpieces in each table. A small menu was written on a chalkboard next to two barrels containing ice cold bottles of ciders by the entrance. Flowers of autumn were artistically arranged in every corner. There was a certain rustic feel about it that Carol adored. There were numerous people wining and dining with their companies, but most were fixated on the performers onstage. There was a string quartet in the corner of the deck serenading the crowd with classical music. In the spotlight amongst the performers was a beautiful young blonde soloist who seemed wonderfully lost in the music. Fred took notice of Carol being taken by the performance.

“That’s Genevieve Cantrell,” he whispered while pointing at the violinist, “she’s the concertmaster of the Philharmonic.”

“But she’s so young…” Carol remarked without taking off her eyes at the young woman, with her movements swift and graceful just as she played the violin with such virtuosity. The young woman struck each note perfectly and it hummed with great emotions that swept Carol away. She was in awe of her.

“And brilliant, isn’t she?”

Carol nodded in agreement. There was no doubt this young woman was on top of her game.

“But she’s too overrated for my tastes.” Fred was quick to add before taking a sip of his drink. “Darling of the orchestra and a talent that comes rarely in a century?” With immense sarcasm, he echoed the reviews he once read. “Oh please… I’ve watched a 15-year old play the same pieces she had played in the junior orchestra.” _How could Fred say such a thing?_ Carol pondered. Genevieve was astounding. But nevertheless, Fred’s comments made her giggle. She turned to look at the violinist once more. There was something very peculiar about her that she couldn’t point out. Whether it was the way she looked, the way she played or a hunch of familiarity or just a general gut feeling that she’s “someone,” Carol couldn’t decipher it.

The entrees finally arrived and everyone in the table sang their praises of how delectable the meals were so far. After the desserts were served, Carol suddenly felt the urge to smoke. In the pool of strangers chattering around her, she felt displaced. This wasn’t the kind of New York City she was adjusted to years ago. Fred and the other law professors were talking about people she didn’t know of, clients perhaps? Former colleagues? She had no idea. She excused herself from the table and walked towards the bar. She ordered a shot or two of whiskey, feeling the warmth and the easiness grow inside of her. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and she was like an outsider getting a glimpse of everyone’s lives that she was not a part of. Nameless faces paraded in front of her, some of them shooting glances her way. Although she wanted to leave, something inside her was telling her to stay a little bit longer. She pondered upon how New York was like to her before. Every time she tried to put back the pieces together about her life back in the city, all that she could ever think of were her moments with Therese. Every memory she had of the great city was tainted with Therese. Why did everything have to be about her? This was Therese’s city, her home, and not hers. Nor it will ever be, she thought. Did she make the unconscious decision to move back here just to see Therese? It occurred to her that she might have done that.

It was November now and she still hadn’t had a glimpse of Therese, neither did she try and see any of the artist’s works permanently exhibited in the small galleries scattered across the metropolis. Abby refused to talked about Therese, and Carol knew why. She needed no explanation for it. Her friend was cautious about telling her about Therese-- like she had a huge secret that she doesn’t have the heart to tell her. Regardless of everything, she wanted to see Therese. She wanted to talk to her. To hold her hand? Well, she won’t push it. But what were the odds indeed? What were the odds of seeing her in the Big Apple? Surely, in the millions living and breathing in New York, how could she just casually bump into her, as if the universe and all of its “forces” have had conspired for it, as if they’ve destined it if they were ever to meet again? The chances were very slim, and Carol understood it. If she and Therese were in fact to meet again, they could have had that chance in that fateful evening in London in front of Robichek Modern to have said their ‘hellos.’ But they missed it. They lost it. Or maybe, it was just simply not meant to be.

Carol ordered one more shot of whiskey. Although it seemed just a petty amount, she hasn’t consumed this much alcohol in years. She felt a bit dizzy and warm inside. She was undaunted with the cold autumn air briskly blowing through her direction. Just as Carol was ready to go back to Fred and tell him that she was feeling under the weather so she could go home, her heart dropped and everything fell silent-- at least for her. In a single instance, all her existential thoughts and wishes transpired before her.  There she was.

Therese Belivet.

The rest was a blur and Carol’s could only see Therese’s face across the room. Therese was breathtakingly beautiful-- more beautiful that she could ever have remembered. The young woman’s hair was tied in a high ponytail, accenting her face’s exquisite bone structure. She wore a sexy, black chiffon jumpsuit baring her back and giving a sensuous peek of her skin in front and her tattoo on her side. The brunette leaned on the railings, grasping a bottle of cider. Her emerald eyes were gazing at nothing in particular. Carol knew this habit of Therese very well. She was thinking deeply of another idea, of another thing she was to make. There was a certain look of serenity in Therese, a radiance and confidence that she never had known she had before. As if she snapped out of some sort of trance, Therese looked up and breathed out a sigh. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after taking a quick gulp of her cider. _I hope you turn and look at me,_ Carol said like a mantra in her mind.

Then those emerald eye, as if in command...

Those tantalizing emerald eyes instantaneously met Carol’s.

Her breath quickened, catching up to her racing heart. They gazed at each other for what seemed like an eternity-- neither of them looking away from the other. Suddenly, Therese smiled-- the sweetest smile Carol had ever seen lined on her former lover’s face. Carol was uncertain if that smile was for hers so she tried to hide her face among the crowd. She averted her gaze. Now she was uncertain if she wanted Therese to see her, to see the need in her eyes. But then, Therese rose from her seat and began walking towards Carol. With every step Therese was taking she felt the beats of her heart echoing, amplifying louder and louder as she got closer to her former lover. She didn’t know why but she had to at least come say hi to her. There was no damage that could be done with a simple greeting, she thought. Carol, on the other hand, needed to steady herself as she held on to the chair near her.

“Carol?” Therese spoke gently. Her name flying out of the younger woman’s lips was surreal. Was it a dream or did she indeed hear her say her name? She couldn’t believe that Therese was just inches away from her. Carol tried to gather herself together.

“Therese! What a pleasant surprise!” Carol mustered to say but she felt like her words were too forced. They sounded fake as if there was nothing else better to say to someone she hadn’t seen for such a long time.

“What are you doing here?” Therese asked as she took the empty seat beside Carol.

“I was invited by a colleague to come here.” The two just looked at each other blankly, gauging the other for what seemed to be a tensed chat. Meetings with exes were never pleasant, Carol reminded herself.

“How have you been?”

“I’m doing well,” Carol feigned a smile. She was far from being well, but what else could she say? “I see you’re flourishing, Therese.” Carol involuntarily touched Therese’s hand resting on the bar counter. There was something about the way Carol said her name that made Therese light up. Therese returned Carol’s smile. It was odd for Therese-- the happiness of seeing Carol after all those years. She had no feeling of anger, remorse nor grief from the way they ended things. She realized in a snap how far she had come-- from being the young girl who pleaded for Carol to stay, to now being the young woman who had her life together, who didn’t need to plead for things to occur to her. Carol’s gray eyes, though Therese didn’t know, were daubed with both joy and sorrow. She was an irony, a conflict of both the past and the present, a stir of emotions that she herself couldn’t fathom.  

All of a sudden, one of the waiters approached Therese and whispered something to her.

“Now?” Therese asked the waiter.

“I’m afraid so, Miss.” He said nonchalantly.

The younger woman sighed. She turned her attention back to Carol and she smiled once more, the dimples that Carol had loved about Therese surfaced in her cheeks. Oh how she wished she could kiss them right now.

“I’m sorry. I have to talk to someone. It was great seeing you around though.”

“It’s great seeing you too, sweetheart.” _Sweetheart._ The slip of that word made her eyes grow wide. She felt the rush of blood and heat towards her face. Why did she have to say that? She wanted to slap herself and take the word back. Therese nodded as if unfazed with the use of that endearment.  

“Enjoy your evening, Carol.” She felt Therese’s arm wound around her shoulders before she left a graceful peck on her cheek. _This._ This was how Therese was now, Carol thought. Successful, elegant, and confident-- someone so certain of herself that she’d dare to still be kind to someone who has caused her so much pain. Therese's touch left her weak in the knees. Her heart fluttered. Carol still sat on her stool and secretly watched Therese. For a moment, she felt in bliss. The young woman made her way through the crowd to a table full of people. As soon as Therese reached them, the young blonde woman who gave an exquisite performance just moments ago took Therese’s hand into her own and whispered something. Therese addressed the people in the table and shook their hands all the while the blonde woman’s hand rested on the small of Therese’s back. Therese and the blonde appeared to be a captivating couple. The table roared with laughter when Therese said something and gestured with her hands. The blonde woman-- Genevieve, Carol remembered her name, looked at Therese lovingly. The subtle way that her arm wrapped around Therese’s waist signified some sort of belongingness, or perhaps propriety. Carol’s expression suddenly turned sour. The couple said their goodbyes to the the people and left the table. Carol’s gaze followed the two to a darker corner of the space where the blonde picked up her violin case and her coat. The blonde draped her coat across Therese’s shoulders before she pulled her in for a passionate kiss, her hand cupping Therese’s face, and the other drawing her close. There were times when Carol had entertained the idea that Therese was already someone else’s and she knew it would hurt but she didn’t think it would hurt this much. There were days that felt like hell to just imagine Therese being in the arms of someone else. Seeing it for herself right then and there-- that a Genevieve Cantrell beheld Therese wonderfully the way she did half a decade ago, it broke Carol. Whatever she felt for the blonde woman when she watched her perform, well, she knew what it was now. It was jealousy.

Carol looked up at the clear night sky, the stars indecipherable with the city lights glaring her sight over them. _This is what if feels like,_ she thought to herself. She shut her eyes and felt the endlessness of the universe befalling her in one breath. In her mind, she knew that love was one of the magical odds that she had once held dearly but now regretted letting go of. If there were words that could convince Therese, anything at all that would seem to be enough for her to believe that her love would come back to her, she wished hard for them to come to her now. She wanted Therese to know that her love was no less worthy of any love that someone else could give her. Seeing Therese happy, seeing her thrive without her being by her side struck Carol deeply. It struck her hard in a place that she thought wasn’t ever there. Does it ever feel less or more when you want to tell someone you miss them but you know they don’t feel the same way? Carol felt her eyes welling up with tears. She took a deep breath, not allowing them to stream down her face. She didn’t say goodbye to Fred anymore. She just fled the scene. When she was away from everyone, she let her tears fall. There was no use holding them back anymore. Therese, on the other hand, stared back at the bar where she saw Carol. She wasn’t there anymore. Her eyes searched for the familiar face in the crowd but she was gone.

“Is there anything wrong, babe?” Genevieve asked her before she was to take the stage again.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Therese shrugged and squeezed Genevieve’s hand on her own. She kissed it and placed it against her chest as she wished and wished hard enough that the way her heart caught up to catch her breath was its own subtle way of saying that her heart, her love still belonged to Genevieve’s. But the way her eyes refused to meet her lover’s betrayed Therese when she whispered the words _I love you_ to Genevieve.

For her, it ached to love, and it ached not to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more week until I'm done with my shenanigans so I could follow the regular posting schedules for my fics. :) 
> 
> "A Sunday Kind of Love" will be updated tomorrow. I forgot to post the new one last week... ooops. ^^v  
> I'll TRY to post an update for "Detour" during the weekdays.


	13. Something Always Brings Me Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York is a big city, but somehow, Carol manages to bump into Therese at the most random times with no intent. In one accidental meeting, she even briefly meets Therese's current flame, Genevieve. In a city of millions with exponentially more possibilities but very slim chances of running into each other repeatedly, the former lovers are oblivious to the possible signs of the universe as they try to avoid each other. But when they find themselves stranded in a shop during a torrential downpour of rain, they are forced to spend an afternoon together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a long chapter-- the second longest chapter so far after the prologue.

In the cusp of the falling tangerine sun and the rising dimness of the night, Carol moved swiftly against the brush of the cold air swooping in while watching nature’s spectacle slipping through the New York skyline. Carol had just visited the Brooklyn museum after having had another uneventful day at the academe. She walked to the train station and was generally pleased that the cars weren’t too full yet although people were on their way to their homes. Home now for her was at the heart of New York, a place where people seemed to be in a hurry to get away from when the workday has concluded. The woman took an empty seat near the doors and brought out a book to keep her busy in the short trip ahead. She had been trying to finish her reading the past few nights-- a book about the life of Friedrich Nietzsche. A line uttered by the philosopher struck her deeply. It wasn’t her first time coming across it, but it always made her mull over it profoundly.

_ From which stars have we fallen to meet each other here? _

Circumstance or conspiracy? Carol contemplated. Was everything left to random chance for events to take place or did the universe really conspire to make people happen to each other? Carol thought about the night she had finally met Therese after years of not seeing her. Was that just random circumstance or was she really bound to see Therese sooner or later? It was an unknowing night that she had finally met her former lover, and oddly, she was all that Carol could think about. She was all that Carol wanted to see. Meeting Therese was still surreal and bittersweet for her. The young artist had flourished, and Carol wasn’t there to witness it. She was bolder, more mature and the person she thought Therese could never be when they broke up. The more she thought about it, the more that seemed like she couldn’t forgive herself for what she did. It was years indeed, but somehow, something was still pulling her back to it. 

When she came back to reality and away from her daydreams, it suddenly occurred to her that she missed her stop. She was too engrossed within her thoughts and her book that she forgot that she had to make a transfer in the three previous stations.  She alighted the train and took the one going the opposite direction to head back. Carol waited for a before the train arrived. She immediately found a vacant seat. On the second stop of the train, heaps of people left, but even more people entered. It surprised Carol to see that one of them was Therese. She was just thinking about her, and yet she was there just a few meters away from her. Therese’s hair was tied up in a bun and she was wearing glasses-- a look that Carol didn’t remember Therese sporting from before. Though Therese looked like she just threw on the first thing she saw inside her closet-- an oversized knitted shirt and tattered dark jeans, she appeared effortlessly beautiful-- much more than Carol had remembered days ago. The young woman had her earphones on and she seemed very focused on something on her phone. Finally noticing how the train was full of people, the annoyance suddenly became very visible on Therese’s face as her shoulders dropped and she let out a sigh. Before the train could dash off to the next station, her eyes scanned for a vacant grab handle. When she found one, she hurried before anyone else could get to it. In the stuffy space, it took her a while before she recognized the person sitting right in front of her.

“Hey!” Therese greeted Carol with a smile on her face. Her dimples appeared and Carol knew she was a goner.

“Hi!” Her voice was 

“Where are you headed to?”

“Heading home. I came from the Brooklyn Museum. You?” Therese wondered if Carol’s interest in art blossomed from the time when they were still together and it still stuck to her even now.

“Just picking up Gen from rehearsals and then dinner afterwards.”

Carol nodded and mustered up a smile.  _ Genevieve  _ was the magic word for Carol to momentarily forget that she was still in love with Therese. 

“You can have my seat. I’m taking off in the next station.” Carol offered.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” Carol gathered her belongings and stood up.

“Oh, great! Thank you so much.” The two switched places, but they remained silent all throughout the trip. There were quite a few moments when Therese’s knee grazed Carol’s leg due to the turbulent movement of the train in the tracks, and that was the only interaction they had for the rest of the trip. When it was time for her to alight, Carol saw that Therese had her earphones on so she just placed her hand on the brunette’s shoulder and mouthed ‘Bye’ as she made her way out. New York was Therese’s turf. Carol knew she was defenseless if she had to avoid seeing her former lover in the city.

* * *

On a Friday afternoon, Fred caught up with Carol on her way to the university’s library to return some books.

“Carol! Are you busy tomorrow?” Her colleague asked.

“Why?”

“I need help with something.” He smirked, trying to seem polite and amiable towards Carol.

“What is it?”

“I need to pick out lingerie.” The man sheepishly said with his palms clasped together.

“Oh god, Freddie! For yourself? Absolutely not!” Carol snorted. She thought the idea was absolutely preposterous.

“No, you silly! It’s my friend’s bridal shower. I’m getting one to give as a gift.”

Carol was relieved that they weren’t shopping for Fred.

“Will you come with me? Pretty please! I’ll bring you coffee from that shop down at the Greenwich Village on Monday.”

Carol stared down Fred from head to toe. She knew it required a ton of patience for one to get coffee at that store he was pertaining to. Lines were long and distressing early on in the morning. People queued for their coffee no matter how many minutes or hours it took them. It was with perhaps good reason-- they had the best coffee in town.

“Fine. I’ll go with you.” The woman finally caved in.

Fred and Carol met together after lunch somewhere in Broadway. While waiting for her companion, it occurred to her that Prince Street, the place where she first met Therese, was just a few blocks away. For Carol, her thoughts of Therese were like an uninvited guest, a residual ghost who came and went as much she pleased. But then again, every nook and cranny of New York City seemed to be haunted with her recollections of when she and Therese were still together.

Carol and Fred rummaged through the the racks and bins in the front part of the store but Carol’s mind seemed very far away. Her vision was like a camera lens trying to get into focus but was simply failing.

“Would this be something you’d wear?” Fred raised a see-through kimono from the racks, but from the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Therese.

“Hello? Earth to Carol?” Fred shook the piece of clothing.

“Yeah.” She wasn’t actually paying attention to her companion.

“I’m getting this if we don’t find better ones. I’ll go look at the suspenders and you can…” Fred sensed Carol’s detachment from their task at hand, “TRY to find a good corset.”

Carol nodded her head and immediately looked at where she thought she saw Therese. To Carol’s amazement, the brunette beauty was still there. She was leaning by the doors of the dressing room, presumably waiting for someone. Suddenly, her companion [which she presumed was Genevieve] dragged Therese inside the cubicle. Carol’s eyes grew wide.

Therese too was caught off guard. Before she could even speak, in front of her was her girlfriend teasing her with sexy lingerie.

“How about this one?” the blonde asked, donning a sheer black slip and thong leaving so little for one’s imagination. She grabbed her lover’s hands and placed them on her waist. Therese swallowed hard.

“So?” Genevieve delicately raised Therese’s chin so that their eyes met once more, waiting for Therese to give a verbal approval. She inched her face close to Therese, her breath warm on the brunette’s lips. Therese leaned in for a kiss but Genevieve was teasing.

“Not here, baby.”

_ Not fair,  _ Therese thought.  _ You started it,  _ she wanted to say. Therese pouted, pretending to be a bit disappointed.

“Don’t do that. You look cute when you do that.” Genevieve quickly and playfully bit Therese’s lower lip before she pulled away from Therese grasp.

“I’ll get dressed. Wait for me outside.”

“Don’t be too long.” Therese shot her a wink before leaving the dressing room.

Therese strode around the store looking at the pieces of lingerie-- from barely-there thongs, bras, and so many more. Carol tried to stay away from Therese’s line of sight until she reached the cashier where Fred was. That was such an awkward scene for Carol to take notice.

“You seem very jumpy today.” Her companion observed.

“I just…” Carol didn’t want to give Fred an explicit explanation, and even if she wanted to, she didn’t know if she had one. She was frustrated about bumping into Therese at such random times.

* * *

Before heading to the university, Carol needed to get her coffee fix so she dropped by the corner cafe in Greenwich Village, the same place where Fred bought the cup of coffee days for her just a few days ago. The lines were staggering per usual in the peak hour of the shop. The woman sighed seeing how long it was. Maybe she should just settle for the coffee at the faculty lounge in the university. She didn’t have the patience to wait. But as soon as she was leaving, she caught sight of Therese once again looking at her. Therese was almost near the cashier. Carol’s heart raced, but it immediately sunk when she saw that right beside Therese wa Genevieve. Genevieve noticed Therese staring at a woman standing by the doorway.

“Hey, babe. Are you ok?”

“I am. I think I saw someone I know.”

“That woman wearing a mink coat standing by the doors? She’s beautiful alright but isn’t it too early to be wearing mink at this time of the season?” Genevieve mockingly laughed.

Therese didn’t hear what Genevieve said at the end. Instead, she raised her hand and waved. Carol acknowledged the brunette with a nod.

“Well, ask her to come over here. She doesn’t have a cup of coffee in hand. Everyone knows everyone comes here for the coffee.” Genevieve urged.

Therese instantaneously thought that that would be a terrible plan. Her current girlfriend meeting the former lover? She knew those awkward movie scenes would only replicate itself in real life. If she wasn’t with Genevieve, she would’ve instantaneously called out for Carol to come hither.

“I don’t think so. I think she was just about to leave. I don’t want to keep her from wherever she’s headed to.” Therese poorly attempted for damage control.

“Geez, Ter. Don’t be selfish.” Genevieve nudged Therese’s arm and like an impulse, she raised her arm and called for Carol’s attention. Carol’s first instinct was to wave them off and gesture that she had to go. But she found herself advancing towards the couple, betraying all the signs that it would be so disastrous meeting the love of her life’s current flame.

“Hi!” Carol tried to sound joyful upon seeing them but it came off flatly.

“Hey!” Therese’s voice came off too rehearsed and robotic. The air was dense-- at least between Carol and Therese. 

“Uhm, Genevieve, Carol” Therese gestured to the taller woman. “Carol, this is Genevieve.”  _ My girlfriend,  _ Carol was waiting and dreading to hear that from Therese, but the young woman didn’t. She didn’t introduce Genevieve as her girlfriend. She knew they were officially together, but it still hurt having to hear it come out of Therese’s mouth. Carol was a bit relieved when Therese didn’t mention it, but the couple’s body language said it all. From the way they grasped each other’s hands to the subtleties of their glances and the creases on their lips forming upwards for a smile-- it was unmistakable. Genevieve was Therese’s, and Therese was Genevieve’s. Carol put on a joyful front and shook Genevieve’s hand.

“Have you grabbed a cup of coffee yet?” Therese asked.

The queue advanced, and the three moved along with it.

“I haven’t but…”   _ I have to go now,  _ Carol intended to say but before the rest of Carol’s words flew, Genevieve interjected.

“We’ll get you one. What do you want?”

Therese’s eyes grew wide. Her girlfriend’s insistence surprised her. She was looking from Genevieve to Carol. From Carol to Genevieve. Carol sensed Therese apprehension.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, and I do need to get going.”

But then, the barista was ready to take their orders. They were in front of the line.

“One small cappuccino, a medium flat white and…” Genevieve turned to Carol waiting for her to say her order. Carol needed her coffee fix, but at that moment, she just wanted to leave. She found herself not able to speak.

“An americano-- double shot with vanilla. Not too hot. Just right to drink on the go.” Therese spoke on Carol’s behalf. The older woman was astonished. Therese still remembered the regular drink she used to get.

“I know you like being over caffeinated, babe, but I don’t think that’s a drink Carol would want.”

“It’s fine. I’ll have that one” Carol was about to hand in her money but the young woman was quick.

“Don’t worry about it, Carol. I got this.” She smiled sweetly as she touched Carol’s arm. Carol could act bitterly about Genevieve if she didn’t see anything special with her instantly-- like why would Therese be captivated with such a woman? But no, it wasn’t like that. Is there any reason for Therese to despise Genevieve? There was none at all. Any person who came across her would be enamored in a heartbeat. Genevieve Cantrell was beautiful and talented. It was very apparent when the young lady took her breath away with a performance before she even knew that she was Therese’s girlfriend. Genevieve held herself with such confidence and refinement. She was the kind of girl that Therese had every reason to show off. Therese was a lucky girl, Carol thought. But deep within her, she knew Genevieve was even luckier.

* * *

Several days later, there was another time that Carol saw Therese. Carol almost bumped into Therese as she walked out of the New York Public Library. Therese, along with a few other people, were gathered around a sculpture in the middle of Bryant Park. They were discussing the sculpture. Perhaps Genevieve was just somewhere around the corner and she dreaded seeing her no matter how kind the young woman seemed to be. Carol wished so hard that she would just stop stumbling upon Therese in the most random places. Before she wanted to see Therese as much as she could, but knowing now that she was in a relationship with someone else. She had to stay away. Being around Therese would only fuel her emotions for her more.

* * *

It was a gloomy Sunday morning. Carol decided to head to the flea market hoping to find vintage furniture or decorations for her apartment. Therese too was there looking for objects to include in her next installation piece. Genevieve wasn’t with her. In the numerous tents pitched up at the empty lot and strangers coming and going, Therese caught a glimpse of Carol. The woman was perusing a paperback from a second-hand book shop. She suddenly smirked at something probably entertaining from what she was reading. Therese was going to greet her but then it began to rain hard. People ran to take shelter inside the tarpaulin tents and nearby establishments while the sellers hurriedly put their goods into safety. Carol, who had guessed that it would rain that morning, brought an umbrella with her. She was not one of the people frantically running along to take refuge. Therese, on the other hand, shrouded her head with her scarf and scanned the vicinity for where she won’t get drenched. She planned to sprint towards a small brunch restaurant when suddenly, she bumps into a tall woman walking leisurely. She was ready to snap at the woman but then she sees it was an amiable face.

“Carol?” Her eyes grew wide. “I’m so sorry. I just…” Therese was now under Carol’s umbrella. Carol removed Therese’s scarf from her head and draped it across her shoulders.

“It’s fine.” Carol chuckled. “Were you headed to ‘Reverie’?” She echoed the name of the quaint brunch restaurant by the corner.

“I was, but only to seek shelter. I forgot my…” Therese was out of breath. She moved closer to Carol so she won’t be drenched with the rain.

“Are you with someone?” Carol asked, hoping Therese wasn’t with Genevieve. As much as she wanted to avoid her former lover, there were things she wanted to know about her, and perhaps wanted to tell her. 

“No.” In Therese’s answer, Carol sort of found courage.

“Would you like to grab something to eat with me? Perhaps brunch there?” Carol directed her gaze at the restaurant. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she’d regret asking Therese.

“Sure. I don’t mind.” Therese lied.

When the pair entered the restaurant, Therese immediately asked one of the waitresses, “Do you have a smoking area here?” Therese tended to smoke more whenever she was in stressful situations. It was a bad habit that only got worse when Carol left her, but the woman didn’t know that. Although Therese presented herself to Carol confidently, part of her was anxious. Why had she welcomed Carol amiably after all that she had done to her? Was it her attempting to show Carol that she was better off without her? Was it her trying to hide something? It wasn’t clear to Therese yet.

They were sat at a different enclosed space. They ordered a warm pot of tea for the cold afternoon and two servings of fruit crepes. While waiting, Therese thrusted the pack of cigarettes towards Carol. The woman took one before Therese placed a cigarette between her own lips. She lit Carol’s before hers. The younger woman huffed deeply before blowing a cloud of smoke. Carol watched Therese from the corner of her eye. None of them were talking, yet the two were wondered about the same thing: what was running on the other person’s mind?

“I think we have to address the elephant in the room.” Carol opened up. 

“I’m truly sorry for what happened between us before.”  _ If I could, I’d take it all back,  _ Carol’s eyes seemed to say, but the words didn’t come out of her mouth.

“It’s the past. Don’t worry about it.” Therese reached for Carol’s hand rested on the table. “We live. We learn. We move on.”  _ Move on.  _ Those words resounded in Carol’s mind. What if she can’t?

“Where’s Genevieve by the way?” Carol pried.

“Gen doesn’t really like coming here to the flea market with me. She doesn’t have the patience to walk around from aisles on end.”

_ Little Miss Perfect wasn’t perfect after all,  _ Carol thought to herself. Why was she keeping score of Genevieve’s flaws?

“I heard you’re a renowned artist now.” Carol digressed a bit.

“Not really.” Therese smirked abashedly. “I don’t know… There are plenty of things I still have to improve on.” The young woman was still humble. She evaded questions about her art and brushed off compliments. She was quite different from the artists that Carol had met before. She appreciated that. 

“Have you seen some of my work?” Therese wanted to know.

“I have.” Carol simply responded without further explanations for caution that she might say something that she didn’t want to yet.

Therese was reminded of that fateful night when she thought she might have seen Carol in front of the Robichek Modern in London. Perhaps it was indeed her that she saw.

“How about you? Still out saving the world one woman or child at a time?”

“Sort of?” Carol shook her head. “If you call education as a superpower. I teach law at Columbia now.” 

“Is that the reason why you moved to New York?”

“Yes. I thought needed a job where I didn’t need to travel too much or have a job that took over my whole life.” Therese sensed how Carol changed as well. Why did she sound like she wasn’t career-driven anymore? Carol’s intensity died down. She seemed more laxed. “I have a daughter now.  _ Rindy.” _ Therese saw the way Carol’s face lit up as she said her child’s name. “She’s a year and two months old.”

“Oh, congratulations… although I knew it’s due.” Therese giggled. Carol brought out her phone and flicked through her photo gallery.

“Here she is.” She showed a photo of her darling daughter, sitting in the middle of the bed with her toys while smiling towards the camera. 

“She’s beautiful.” Therese could only say while she traced the similarity of child’s eyes and smile to that of Carol’s. “And your husband? Where is he?” Therese managed to asked although it wrecked her. It unnerved her to find out the welfare of the man who came after her. She could also see the uneasiness in Carol’s demeanor.

“Uhm, I’ve been divorced… for a few months now actually.”

_ Divorced.  _ The word rang through Therese’s ears. It shocked and infuriated her both at the same time. She was reminded of the day she had accidentally found out about Carol’s wedding-- and how it almost made her regress to becoming the same broken person she was before.

“We’ve had trouble even before Rindy was born. I think… I never… But...” Carol hesitated for the right words.  _ I was stupid,  _ she wanted to say.  _ I was stupid for choosing him over you.  _ Instead, she settled for, “The signs were there. I wanted to keep the marriage alive. I just wanted to fight for something that was already there, for something I already had.”

_ Why didn’t you fight for me?  _ Therese said in her mind. The things she was hiding were slowly resurfacing. 

“Enough about me. You and Genevieve? Aren’t you two planning to get married soon? She seems like a delightful person.” It ached for Carol to ask that question. It even hurt more for her to admit that she thought Genevieve was the type of person that Therese deserved-- someone who was nothing short of remarkable like Therese was.

“I think both of us are just waiting for the other to pop the question.” Therese giggled.

“Why don’t you?” Carol seemed very forward. Therese was taken aback. She asked herself the same thing,  _ why shouldn’t she?  _ She contemplated on it.

“It’s only been three years since we’ve been together.”

_ Three years?  _ That’s almost twice as long as when she and Therese had been together, Carol surmised. It made her jealous. Why didn’t she hold on to her relationship with Therese when she had every reason to? She started hating herself more and more.

“Time doesn’t mean anything.” Carol’s bitterness slipped for a bit. Therese waited for her to continue.

“I mean, you can be with someone for a decade or more without marrying them and still feel that you could never love them less.” But what Carol meant to say was:  _ time means nothing if love never left, if love was there all along. _

* * *

The rain halted an hour later. The two were unaware of how fast time flew with the conversation they were having. While Therese talked, a slither of sunlight peeked in between the wisps of clouds and shone immaculately over the shop’s windows. The room was suddenly rich with light-- a stark contrast from the weather that morning. The radiance hit part of Therese’s profile breathtakingly; her brow, her eye, and her cheek-- the sunlight kissed her unabashedly, and Carol herself secretly wished she could too. They left the restaurant and began to walk together towards where Therese had parked her motorcycle.

“It was really great catching up with you today, Therese.”

“Likewise.” Therese smiled, the type of smile where her dimples became so apparent on her cheeks. Her name sounded different in Carol’s voice. And maybe that was the reason why she couldn’t help but be invigorated by it.

“Where do you live?” Carol asked.

“I live here in Brooklyn-- just a couple of blocks away here actually. And you?”

“Upper West Side.”

Walking together side by side incited more memories of when she and Therese were still together. Carol wished she could hold Therese’s hand, but she knew it wasn’t for hers to hold.

“Would you…” Carol hesitated. She knew what she was proposing might seem to be unorthodoxed and wasn’t adding to her cause of avoiding Therese, of deflecting her feelings for her. “Would you like to grab a drink together some time?”

“Of course.” Therese responded while wiping the trail of raindrops on the faded leather seat and the handlebars of her motorcycle. As soon as she was finished, she turned around to look at Carol. They were speechless for a while. It was a recurring thing between them every time they saw each other.

“Goodbye.” The older woman finally spoke.

“Goodbye, Carol.” Therese gave a graceful peck to Carol’s cheek after she wound an arm around the taller woman. Carol acknowledged that it was only a friendly gesture, but she still couldn’t help getting butterflies from it-- from any kind of physical touch that Therese gave her. She shut her eyes wanting to commit to memory what it feels like to be enveloped in the arms of someone she loved. Carol repeatedly told herself that it was wrong to have feelings for Therese since she had given her heart to another woman. She was thoroughly convinced that Therese’s heart was not hers, but deep within her-- though shrouded it might have seemed, her heart will always be with Therese. Her love with Therese was the kind of love people waited their whole lives for. She felt extremely foolish for letting it go. Here was Therese, and maybe, just maybe, there won’t be anyone else but her. 

“Take care.” Therese said as they pulled away from each other. She gave a nod to her former lover before putting her helmet on. She kick-started her motorcycle and Carol gave her a wave with a smile tinged with longing and sadness. Therese darted to the rain-slicked avenue while Carol walked alone towards the subway station. Pockets of sunlight hit her face, pausing before she descended the stairs to the trains. The weather changed oddly and as fast as the tides did, she thought. While halted by the red light, Therese turned to look where she had said goodbye to Carol. Her former lover was gone. To the universe, Therese and Carol’s serendipitous meetings meant something, but Carol refused to see it and so did Therese. Both of them shrouded their feelings. It was yet another bittersweet meeting for the two. Carol headed back to her apartment, to the place she now called ‘home,’ knowing with some degree of certainty that ‘home’ for Therese was somewhere else. In the arms of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probable spoiler: More Belivaird next chapter-- rejoice while it's still good because it's gradually going to go terribly downhill after that one. Well, you guys love the angst so you guys will most probably enjoy it.
> 
> Better news: New update for "Detour" tomorrow! :)


	14. The Grass is Greener Where it Rains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Thanksgiving and Abby has invited Carol for dinner knowing that she might be spending it alone. A peaceful night turns into a turbulent one when Therese and Genevieve show up unannounced in Abby’s apartment. In the midst of the supposed joyous festivity, some truths accidentally come out. With Therese in the middle of the crossfire, she is forced to confront the things she has been hiding as her true feelings are slowly awakened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading the chapter, listen to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5hRa_l9VAE
> 
> I think it perfectly paints the mood for the whole chapter.

In the cusp of autumn and winter of 2014, Carol and Rindy were invited to a very American holiday, Thanksgiving, in Abigail Gerhard’s apartment in Park Avenue. In Carol’s firm insistence, she was going to attempt to cook the traditional meals during the celebration. It was a daunting task but she was up for it. Overcast skies were suspended all over the state of New York, and the temperature was near freezing. Carol was sure that it would snow any day now. The vintage record player that Abby owned softly crooned tunes by Nat King Cole in the background. Abby carried Rindy in her arms while Carol began preparing the ingredients for their feast. The little girl was wearing a panda onesie and her godmother couldn’t be more smitten. She entertained Rindy by pretending her teddy bear could actually walk and talk. The child enjoyed every bit of it-- smiling, cooing and sputtering incomprehensible words.

“Can you help me with the cranberry sauce, Abby? I measured out the ingredients. You just need to heat it in a saucepan.”

“I thought you’d never ask. You’re too ambitious with wanting to run the whole show.” Abby smirked. Carol always liked to take control of everything. She hasn’t changed.

“Oh, Abby. Stop being ridiculous. You invited us here and well… you helped me get settled here in New York. It’s the least I could do.”

“That was nothing. Stop being melodramatic. It’s unbecoming of you.” Abby ridiculed the chef of the night. “I’ll be back. I’ll just let this little panda play by herself for a while.” Abby set Rindy down on the living room with her toys splayed around her before she got to work in the kitchen. Along with the other meals being put together, the scrumptious smell of turkey and herbs started to spread all over the apartment. Abby returned to the kitchen with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, ready to assist. She found Carol seasoning the mashed potatoes now. The woman was all over the place. Silence hung over them, showing focus on their tasks at hand, before Carol broke it.

“I’ve seen Therese… I’ve met her. We had a chat one afternoon.” Carol spoke hesitantly. Abby was stopped dead in her tracks. She stopped stirring the sauce. She knew the two would meet somehow but she didn’t think they would spend an afternoon together. This only meant one thing, Abby thought: It was either Therese had completely matured, unfazed with meeting an ex, or perhaps Carol and Therese just inevitably gravitated towards one another and perhaps, there’s still love left in between them.

“Why?” Abby didn’t know what to honestly say or respond. “I mean, how?”

“I bumped into her in the flea market in Brooklyn.” Carol sensed her friend’s disapproval.

“What did you talk about?” Abby wanted to know.

“We just caught up with each other’s life.”

“So you know about Gen?” Abby was straightforward. She said it while trying to sneak a glance at her friend.

“I do. I met her once, but it was very brief.”

Abby didn’t understand. Therese seemed to have hidden a lot of things from her recently. She didn’t say anything about her meeting with Carol or that Genevieve had actually met Carol. Maybe it was in accidental circumstances that they all collided into one another-- Abby would like to presume that instead.

“What do you think of her?”

A thousand things began running inside Carol’s mind. The question stung her a bit. What should she say? Should she say the truth? Genevieve for her was beautiful-- and she was everything that she thought that Therese deserved, but it hurt to admit it because deep inside of her she knew no one could ever love Therese as much as she did.

“Therese seems to like her a lot.” Carol replied in a lack-lustered manner-- like she didn’t mind it. The two hardly met each other’s gaze when Abby returned to the kitchen. Their workspace was small, but indifference seemed to be brewing in between them.

“You didn’t answer my question, Carol.” Abby said it with a giggle like she was joking to lighten up the mood. But most of the time, jokes were half truths. The woman poured the cooked cranberry sauce in a ceramic bowl. Carol knew Abby was prying in the least overt way she could but she was failing so she decided to just lay down truth-- a fact that she very well knew that Abby had known even long before.

“You know exactly how I feel.” Carol looked directly into Abby’s eyes. That instance assured the meddling woman that Carol undoubtedly still had feelings for Therese. Abby sort of fathomed what Carol felt-- seeing the person she once loved (still loved) happy with someone else was a dispiriting thought. In Carol’s piercing gray eyes, Abby felt her friend’s longing and regret.

“I’m sorry I never said anything about Therese’s current life. I just wanted her to move on… and for you to move on.” If Carol raised her voice, Abby was ready to defend Therese. Carol was the one who left Therese. She wasn’t there to see the poor young woman grieving and putting herself together again and again only to fall apart. Moving on was Therese’s best option that time, and perhaps Carol should consider it as well. _Move on._ That simple phrase always had a way to sting Carol where it hurt tremendously. It had been haunting her for years now and it hasn’t gone away.

“It’s fine, darling. Therese is happy, and that’s all that matters.” It was true and heartfelt. Carol wanted Therese’s happiness above all. She feigned a smile, but Abby saw right through her.

“And how about you?” It slipped from Abby’s tongue. “Are you happy?”

It took a moment before Carol responded. Abby’s words would have infuriated Carol, but it was the holidays so she laid it down to rest. She was trying to understand that Abby meant well. Every ounce of her held her back from getting angry at Abby. No matter how close they were, still they both left each other in the dark for so long now.

“I could be happier.” Carol’s simple words lingered in the air. It spoke in volumes even though it was a safe answer. She digressed immediately sensing the tension clouding heavily between them. “Anyway, thank you for inviting Rindy and I tonight although…”

“Although?”

“You know we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in England.” Carol attempted for some humor. She didn’t want to talk about Therese tonight. Not anymore. She reached her quota. It was ironic how she thought about Therese; one minute she was enamored by the simple thought of her once lover, but then a second later, it distressed her knowing that she could never have her again.

“Well, you’re in America. Do as the Americans do, Carol.” Abby smirked and did a playful jab on Carol’s arm. Their laughter immediately halted when the doorbell rang.

“It must be the Johnsons.” Abby said, recalling that her neighbors, the Johnsons, always baked her a whole scrumptious pumpkin pie during Thanksgiving. As soon as Abby opened the door, it was not the Johnsons as she had expected.

“Surprise!” One of the guest announced as soon as Abby swung the door open.

It was the couple, Therese and Genevieve. Seeing them in her doorway, it seemed as if every ounce of blood was drained from her face. Abby’s eyes shot wide and looked at Therese with worry. Without exchanging words, Therese knew what Abby meant. When the front door swung open, Therese immediately caught a glimpse of Carol in the kitchen. But even before that, Therese was already in a terrible mood.

“Is there anything wrong?” Genevieve spoke, sensing the anxiety in Abby’s face. “Shouldn’t we have come here unannounced?”

“Uhm, uh…” Abby forced a smile and looked alternately from Therese to Genevieve. Genevieve looked all bright and happy, while Therese’s face painted detachment and a tinge of annoyance. The couple probably fought on their way here, Abby surmised.

“Do you have company? We brought enough wine for a party anyways.” The young blonde spoke gaily. Abby felt as if she was going to pass out. She was worried for Therese. Although Carol and Genevieve had met each other, having them together in the same room for hours spelled drama. It was taxing enough just thinking about it.

“Come in. Come in…” Abby knew she’d regret those words in a while, but it was rude to shun people away on the holidays. “Make yourself at home.”

The couple entered, and Carol turned around to see who it was on the door. Just like Abby, her face was painted with shock. She pretended not to see them and got back to chopping the butternut squash.

“It smells so good in here. I never knew you were an amazing cook, Ab!” Genevieve commented. “Are you finally practicing to become a housewife?”

“I’m not.” Abby laughed nervously. “I’m actually not the one cooking.”

“Well, I want to know who’s making the sumptuous meals tonight!” Genevieve declared and moved towards the kitchen. Abby and Therese stood on their toes at the same time as if they would both stop Genevieve from entering the kitchen but they were too late.

“Do something!” Therese angrily whispered to Abby.

“Why are you getting so worked up about this? I thought they already met each other.” Abby was trying to mask the impending disaster that she was guessing would happen any time.

“Gen was being an asshole. She’s mad at her parents so she doesn’t want us to spend Thanksgiving with them.”

“So instead you come barging in here unannounced?”

“It wasn’t my fucking idea. I told her to apologize. I didn’t know Carol would be here.” Apologies weren’t Genevieve’s strongest suit. That was one of the things that Therese despised about her.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Genevieve was busy stowing away some of the bottles of wine in the refrigerator.

“Hey there! Whatcha cookin’?” Genevieve asked the woman who had her back still turned.

“Just a roasted butternut squash soup.”

“Sounds great.” Genevieve was about to ask the cook who she was when Abby suddenly called out.

“Bring one of the bottles here, Gen!” Abby attempted for damage control even though both of them knew it was inevitable for Genevieve to see Carol now.

“Have you told Gen anything about Carol? Like she’s your...”

Abby was suddenly cut off. Genevieve walked in on them, and the two immediately faked their smiles.

“Where are your wine glasses, Ab?” The young blonde inquired.

“I’ll go get them for you.” Abby redirected the young blonde’s attention to the cabinet by the dining area. Therese walked away and went to Abby’s balcony. She took a deep breath and gazed over the emptiness of the streets, with only sparse vehicles passing by. There were some people walking by as well. There were people spending the holidays alone, she thought. She was one of them before. She brought out her pack of cigarettes. The turmoil of the early night had already drained her and she needed to smoke. She tried to light her cigarette but her lighter was out of fluid.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ Therese cursed under her breath.

“You know I hate it when you smoke, babe.” Genevieve caught Therese in the act.

“I…” Therese was tongue tied.

“You seem so anxious ever since we got here. Was there anything wrong I did?”

 _You know there was something wrong,_ Therese spoke in her mind.

“I just have a lot of things in my mind right now.”

Genevieve took the cigarette from Therese’s hand.

“Hand in the pack, Therese.” She demanded.

Therese helplessly surrendered it. Genevieve threw it as far as she could on the streets.

“I’m expecting you to behave for the rest of the night.” Genevieve planted a kiss on Therese’s lips before moving on to help in the kitchen. Therese flinched. She was miffed at her girlfriend for not sensing that there was something wrong. They basically invited themselves to Abby’s home. Therese liked Mr. and Mrs. Cantrell, and she was sure they liked her back. It was the holidays, couldn’t Genevieve just apologize? On top of that, she was controlling Therese as if she didn’t know any better. She hated being constrained. It’s going to be a long night, Therese surmised. Therese sneakily took servings of the cooked dishes on the kitchen counter. If she can’t smoke her emotions away, she was going to eat it away. She put a serving of mashed potato and gravy in a coffee mug to make it seem inconspicuous. She sat on the living room deviously eating her mashed potatoes. It took her a while to realize that there was a child playing across her. Therese’s frown suddenly turned into a massive smile.

“Hello there!” Therese strode slowly to the little girl playing with her toys on the floor. “You must be Rindy.” She sat down on the floor with the young girl and her big beautiful gray eyes gazed at her with wonder.

“Look how adorable you are with your panda onesie.” Therese shook the little girl’s hand and she giggled. Even though the little girl was not responding comprehensible words, Therese liked talking to her.

“Do you want some of this?” She let Rindy sit on her lap as she began to feed the child with some of her stolen serving of mashed potatoes. Therese was making crazy explosion sounds when she put the spoon near Rindy’s mouth. “Don’t tell your mommy we’re eating before them. They’re all crazy.”

When they finished their mashed potatoes, Therese carried the little girl into her arms. “Out of all the people in this room, you’re the one I like the most.” Therese booped the little girl’s nose with her own. Rindy smiled as if she understood what Therese just said. In the distance, Carol saw what was happening. Her heart fluttered.

Moments later, the feast was ready. Everyone gathered around the table in awe of everything that laid before them.

“Before we dig in to this wonderful feast that Carol had successfully prepared, everyone has to say something they’re thankful for. I’ll begin.” Abby spoke. “I’m thankful for my guests here tonight, even though some of them weren’t invited…” Her words insinuated laughter. “I’m even more thankful for the awesome turkey that we’re about to partake in. Ok, who’s next?”

“I will!” Genevieve volunteered.

“I’m thankful for my companions tonight, the delicious feast that Carol has prepared,” she nodded to the woman across. “and my new job in Spain.”

“Your what?” Therese was shocked at Genevieve’s declaration. She didn’t see this one coming. “What’s so special about Spain? Why are you going there?”

“I thought I needed a change.”

“You have a great job here in New York. You said you wanted to... ”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Genevieve cut her lover off and placed a hand on her lap to calm her down. Therese folded her arms.

“Belivet, care to tell what you’re thankful about?”

Therese didn’t feel like it. She was pissed. Her whole night seemed to be ruined now, but then she saw the cute little girl sitting on her mother’s lap. She was adorably dozing to sleep. Everyone was waiting for her answer.

“I’m thankful for Rindy. That’s it. I don’t have anything else to be thankful for.”

“Ok… It’s Carol’s turn.” Abby raised her eyebrows. She didn’t see the sense of Therese’s answer, but for Therese, talking and playing with Rindy was the only good thing that night… and perhaps seeing Carol too.

“I’m thankful to be back in New York.” The woman simply spoke.

“I’ll drink to that!” Abby raised her glass and everyone followed suit.

Everyone began to dig in, praising Carol for how delicious every dish was. Out of the blue, Genevieve began prying as conversation.

“I don’t think Therese mentioned it before. How’d you two meet?”

Carol and Therese responded at the same time.

“At Prince Street.” Carol was truthful.

“Through Abby.” Therese lied.

“Well, that makes sense since Abby likes art a lot.” Genevieve commented. “So Carol, what do you do-- if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I teach law.” Carol wasn’t being too generous with her words.

“Perhaps corporate law since it’s in line with Abby’s?”

“Human Rights and mostly International Law actually.”

“That’s impressive. But why just… teach?” The way Genevieve said the latter word seemed like it was tinged with condescension.

“I have a child now so spending time with her became my priority. Being out in the field just won’t cut it.” Carol was still civil towards Genevieve. She remembered the time that her friend, Fred said that he didn’t like Genevieve because she was too overrated-- and perhaps if he was there too, he’d add another reason to why he doesn’t like her.

“Carol here worked at the best organizations in Europe you could think of. And besides, younger people need to learn from the best.” Abby was putting Carol in the pedestal, perhaps because she didn’t like the way Genevieve said the bit about teaching. Carol gave a knowing smile to Abby.

Their conversations turned into something more light-hearted a few minutes later, but Genevieve quickly turned it around.

“Remember that time you almost passed out when they were exhibiting most of Edward Hopper’s work at MoMA? Hopper is Therese’s favorite artist.” Genevieve looked at all the guests knowingly, like her story was something they should hear about.

“Louise Bourgeois-- she’s Therese’s favorite artist.” Carol quipped. She couldn’t help herself. Therese was surprised that Carol still remembered.

“Oh, are you a fan of art too, Carol?” Genevieve asked.

“I am.”

“Have you been to Barcelona?”

“I have, actually.”

“There’s plenty of beautiful architecture and sights that Therese could be inspired with, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So come to Barcelona with me, Therese.” Genevieve shook Therese’s arm. She suddenly turned to the woman across her. “Carol, tell her how beautiful Barcelona is.”

“I could, but it’s not going to make a difference when Therese herself seems to be against…” Carol cut herself off. She wanted to try to help Therese, and she wished she could just take herself off the equation so she just settled with safer words. “Barcelona is beautiful. I don’t think any word I say will match up to it.”

“Please, please, please come with me, Therese!” Genevieve urged another time.

“Can you two talk about your Barcelona thing after dinner? Jesus, kids these days.” Abby put a hand on her forehead.

“Apologies…” Genevieve spoke softly. Therese was really annoyed right now. She had her arms folded and wasn’t touching any of her food.

“Ter, eat something.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“You’re being rude to Carol. She made all of this so the least you could do is enjoy it.”

There was a petulant look on Therese’s face. Genevieve was telling her to do things like she didn’t know any better. She hated being told to do things. She took a quick swig of her glass of wine. Carol stole a glance from Therese. She wasn’t as happy as she thought she was.

Even after dinner, Genevieve still brought up the topic.

“Let’s go to Barcelona. They have a renowned art scene and,” the following words accidentally slipped from Genevieve’s mouth. “We can get married there.”

“Married?” Therese said the word jarringly.

Even in Therese’s bewilderment, Genevieve’s eyes were still hopeful.

“We’ve been together for so long and I just thought…” Genevieve sensed the implied rejection in Therese’s tone. She digressed to save face from the two women who were witnessing them fight. “Why do you want to stay in New York so bad?”

“My home is here. Don’t you get that?” Therese’s all pent up anger suddenly came flooding out. The two older women felt the tension and moved away. “If you want to go to Barcelona, then go by yourself.”

“Therese....”

“Why? Give me a good reason why I should go with you.” Therese’s tone was very aggravated. She couldn’t help it anymore. She couldn’t hold her anger in anymore.

“Because I love you.” Genevieve spoke without skipping a beat.

 _Was love ever a reason that satisfied? Was love ever enough?_ Therese thought. Genevieve waited for an answer, but Therese didn’t feel like her intended response  held the truth anymore. She was going to say _I love you too but…_ The last word echoed inside her mind. Love wasn’t love if it had conditions. Therese didn’t say anything. She just left Genevieve hanging. The young blonde hurriedly grabbed  coat. She stormed out of the apartment as fast as lightning, visibly holding back her tears. Therese didn’t even budge.

“I think it’s time for us to also call it a night.” Carol was astounded from what transpired, so was Abby. She took a sleeping Rindy into her arms along and Abby helped her gather their other belongings. The two women were saying their goodbyes to each other. Therese took a quick glance at them. Rindy’s head laid comfortably on her mother’s shoulders. Carol placed a soft kiss on the little girl. That memory was seared inside Therese’s mind. She wanted to remember that scene. Abby walked the mother and the child towards the door.

“Don’t.” Therese managed to say after minutes of silence. Both Abby and Carol turned their heads to the young woman. Therese was even surprised from the boldness of words coming out of her mouth. For some reason, she felt comfort in the presence of Carol-- and after all this time, she finally acknowledged it. She knew why she felt this way for Carol.

“I’m sorry.” Carol wondered how many more apologies she might need to say to Therese. “Goodbye, Therese.” But Carol would’ve stayed for Therese. She knew in her heart that she wouldn’t dare leave her anymore given the chance that Therese would let her in once more, but this was not the right time. This was different. Therese was hurting for someone else. Someone who was not Carol. Carol hurt for what she and Therese could’ve had. It hurt to love her from the shadows.

When Carol and Rindy were gone, Abby sat beside Therese. Abby would’ve told off Therese but she didn’t want to get a rise out of her anymore. She knew the reason why Therese was acting that way.

“Won’t you chase after her?” Abby asked before taking a swig from her glass of scotch. Therese wasn’t absolutely sure who was _her_ in the woman’s message. Was it Genevieve or Carol? Therese just shook her head. Maybe she was tired of chasing after people.

“Can I stay here?” Therese didn’t want to come home to Genevieve. Her friend handed her with her own serving of alcohol-- on the rocks.

“Stay as long as you need.” Abby rubbed Therese’s back, trying to calm her friend down with a simple gesture.

“Thanks, Abby.” She mustered to respond.

The older woman gave her a nod before taking off to the corridor to get a pillow and blanket for her. Therese saw Abby’s pack of cigarettes on the coffee table tempting her. She couldn’t help herself any longer, she took the pack and went to the balcony. She quickly lit one cigarette and breathed in deeply before huffing out a huge cloud of smoke. Abby soon joined her after. The two didn’t speak to each other-- a knowing and empathetic silence between them.

“Is love ever a good reason? Is love ever enough?” Therese broke the silence. The words coming out of her mouth tonight seemed to be vague.

“It should be.” The older woman responded with something ambiguous herself. They were allowing each other to read between the lines. For some reason, Therese understood. She leaned on the railings when she exhaled from her cigarette. She set her gaze up into the deep night sky wanting to be engulfed in its serenity. Her breath mingled with the cold winter air as she whispered, “I think love never left.” She extended her palm in front of her.

Snow began to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've also updated "Detour" a couple of days ago. Shameless plugging-- If you haven't read it yet, here it is:
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6533959/chapters/15823978


	15. If I Know What Love is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese and Genevieve ended their relationship for good. Therese moves into her workshop and calls it home since she is unable to find a new place on such short notice. The holiday spirit hasn't caught on her as she feels lonely in such a festive season. Unbeknownst to her, someone drops by to lift up her spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the piece that Gen is playing:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6pAmlWHzX8

22 December 2014

A sliver of faint morning light raced across the wide window in Therese’s studio. Her once workshop for all her art was now haphazardly turned into half a living space. In such short notice, her cluttered studio was the only place she could come to call home after she had moved out from the apartment that she and Genevieve used to share. Her living necessities were strewn with her art materials--as if it was a manifested metaphor of her life as an art; and art as her life… or that it simply implied that her life was a mess. The young artist’s sleep ridden body laid on a mattress on the floor. The cushion looked as if it was just mindlessly thrown in the middle of the room. Therese’s bare arms and limbs were covered in a pool of off white sheets and an assortment of unfolded clothes from her carelessly unpacked luggage. Her emerald eyes flickered along with the dust fluttering in the small gaping ray of sunshine as she awoke to a nuanced silence-- the kind of silence when against stillness she could still hear the subtle creaking of the wooden floors adjusting, the jangling of a metal link of chains from the strong gusts of the winter wind outside, and the dissipating clip-claps of a neighbor’s footsteps in the corridors. And yet above all of it was the overwhelming static of the atmosphere. Therese tossed herself to the cold, unoccupied space on the other side of the mattress; a constant reminder in her waking moments that someone used to be ‘here.’ She laid on her back and stared blankly at the ceiling. The unshakable feeling of desolation inhabited her and bounced off across the walls. Alone and lonely-- she felt both things at the same time and the silence seemed to mercilessly echo that.

Minutes later, Therese finally got up after a moment of contemplation. She dragged along her sheets to cover her naked body as she sauntered across the room. She picked up her pack of cigarettes from her work station and sat by the window sill. Welcoming the winter mornings with her dose of coffee and cigarettes was becoming a habit. She too kicked it off with a side of melancholy and longing as she thoughtlessly watched strangers in a corner of a busy street from her window. It had been weeks since the catastrophe in Abby’s thanksgiving dinner. It had been weeks too since she and Genevieve had finally given each other their decent goodbyes, but every now and then her mind floats back to her former love. It was not that she still had feelings for Genevieve. Not at all. Missing the feeling and the memories wasn’t the same as missing the person herself. She had to say it multiple times to hinder her mind from playing tricks on her, of thinking that she might have loved the violinist still. Perhaps she felt that way because she longed for the fragments of beauty and bliss that came with loving Genevieve. Now that their relationship had gone to be irretrievable from some unreachable plain, Therese was left to wonder: where was she to seek some other form of beauty and bliss? Therese wasn’t in love with Genevieve anymore. She was sure of it. Yet sometimes, it felt like someone pierced a hole in her chest and took something that wasn’t theirs. The aftermath of breakups whether cordial or hostile was never pretty because the other person would be the lifetime memento for failed love. Therese began retracing in her mind on how she ended up where she was now.

* * *

The days following the cataclysmic dinner at Abby’s was like a cold war between Therese and Genevieve. Neither of them wanted to talk the other nor did they want to see each other. It was probably for the best though. Both of them needed to process their feelings away from each other. Their lease in their Brooklyn apartment ended that month. Therese was quite relieved. She didn’t want to be constantly reminded of what she and Genevieve had… or could have had if she had to reside there. When the day that Therese would take her things from the apartment came, no words were exchanged between her and her ex. Therese shook the snow from her boots and took a deep breath before she entered the apartment. It was almost barren. Some of the furniture were gone. The others, draped with linens or bundled in see-through plastic wrap. Genevieve stood on her usual “practice spot” playing her violin. She stopped as soon as the brunette began grabbing her things erratically from every corner of the room, stuffing them carelessly inside a bag and a box that she had brought. The blonde would’ve raised her voice at Therese’s startling actions. An argument seemingly lurked at this circumstance but Genevieve had a hunch that maybe this would be the last time that she’d see Therese. She wanted to say something but the words seem to be stuck like a lump in her throat. Although there was no happy ending in all of this, the least they could give each other was a less than a regretful ending. Genevieve looked away from Therese and gathered herself together. She thought of the things she wanted to tell her. When Therese was about to leave, Genevieve caught up with her.  
“I’m sorry,” Genevieve’s voice quivered when she finally spoke. Therese stopped in her tracks in the instance she heard those words fly out of Genevieve’s mouth. “I know you won’t come with me no matter how much I plead, and it’s ok. I understand. I am never going to ask you again.”  
Part of Therese didn’t want to hear what had to be said. If she had to be honest, she was scared of facing the truth--that she had no idea what to tell Genevieve if things between them were completely over. She went to the apartment presuming that Genevieve wasn’t around. Therese didn’t have a speech prepared. She wished she had one. What was she thinking barging into their place without considering the high probability that Genevieve would still be around? She felt stupid. She wanted to run away. She reached for the doorknob, ready to head out.  
“Wait! Just listen.” Genevieve halted Therese, her hand grasping on the smaller woman’s shoulder. “I don’t want to end this with words we’ll wish we could have said weeks… months from now.” End this. Therese felt relieved but at the same time her heart sunk. Genevieve had said the words she was afraid to say. This was it. Certainly, there was no good in goodbye. “I’d be stupid if I told you that I didn’t feel you drifting away during the past months.” Therese was caught red handed, and she felt guilty. Her eyes wouldn’t meet Genevieve’s. “I’m sorry for the way I acted last Thanksgiving. It was inappropriate. I know. It was a stretch, but it was my way of knowing if you were in this with me for the long run.” Genevieve’s voice kept shaking as she spoke. The woman’s usual confident demeanor was stripped away. She was vulnerable, Therese knew, and Genevieve hated it when she had to show that side of her. Hearing her voice crack, Therese had the urge to hug her tight and tell her that it was all going to be ok. But she wasn’t in the right place anymore. Her feelings were entangled in the blur of love and hate.  
“But I now know that you weren’t. We’re not in the same page. We’re never going to be.”  
Therese felt her warm tears beginning to run down her cheeks having her guilt incarnated into words by Genevieve. She hid her face away although she knew that the blonde was crying as much as she was.  
“But I won’t take all the blame. For one reason or another, you had a hand in this too. We both fucked up.” Therese was going to defend herself but that was the simple truth. She knew there were things she could have done better… or have avoided, but it was too late for that. “I won’t ask you to do things you don’t want to, and I won’t fight for something you’re not willing to fight for.” Therese finally turned to see Genevieve’s face covered with tears. “We’ll both give reasons that the other won’t understand why we ended up here. So let’s save ourselves from…”  
Therese hushed her former lover and cradled the blonde’s face in her hands. She finally got the courage to gaze at her bright auburn eyes. Genevieve’s cheeks were flushed on Therese’s bleak touch.  
“I… I tried...” Therese stuttered in her words. “I wanted to love you better than I know how.” She swallowed hard, trying to keep herself from bawling further.  
“I wished I could be all of that for you but that was all I could give, and I know you deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who’ll take that leap and I’m so so sorry I couldn’t do that for you.”  
Genevieve nodded her head while wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She understood. She had a hunch that Therese’s heart was elsewhere. Where ‘elsewhere’ was, Genevieve didn’t want to know. Therese ran her hand on Genevieve’s golden hair before closing in the gap between them and enveloping her in a tight embrace. She buried her face on the slightly taller woman’s neck, her scent swishing around her. Genevieve’s arms on the small of her back reminded her of the warmth of someone who cared during those times she couldn’t call anyone home. When they finally pulled away, Therese took Genevieve’s hands on her own and kissed her knuckles. Both of them gasped for air hoping the water works would subside.  
“I loved you, you know that, right?” She mustered up a smile with her dimples peeking from her cheeks.  
“I loved you too, Therese Belivet.”  
Loved. What a funny thing to say, Therese thought. She savored the way Genevieve said her name-- the last time she’d probably ever hear it come out from her lips. They lingered on the momentary calmness before Therese spoke once more.  
“I’ll be on my way now. Be safe, Gen.”  
“You too.”  
Therese picked up her things, and as she closed the door on the Brooklyn apartment they once shared, she took one last glance at Genevieve through the small gap in the door. Genevieve sauntered to a corner of the room and picked up her violin again. She began playing a song that Therese hasn’t heard before. Her eyes were closed and her long blonde locks delicately cascaded on the side of her face to her shoulders. Genevieve was still beautiful and radiant as the first time they met. The only difference now was Therese looked at her as her past, not like someone who held promises for her tomorrows. She knew this moment would be seared in her memories-- a projector playing over and over again if she remembered Genevieve Cantrell, remembered someone who had cared for her profoundly. Therese stayed for a few seconds cherishing that last moment she’d have with her former lover, knowing that this was going to be one of the things she’ll miss most about her. She breathed in and gathered herself before she shut the door. As she walked down the corridor. She could still hear Genevieve’s violin resonating as if she was playing a beautiful outro to what they had. For Therese, in light of all that happened, she’ll choose to remember Genevieve fondly. She won’t deny that for one breathtaking moment in her life, the beautiful blonde violinist from across the room was once her everything.

* * *

For the whole day, Therese preoccupied herself with the bulks of commissions she had received in the past months. She didn’t want to have to think of what happened and what could have happened with her and Genevieve… or even with her and Carol. She’d do anything to distract herself from pondering on that. She’d go a mile and would rather read scathing reviews of her work or hear berating comments of her installations from unknowing gallery or museum goers. At least it made her feel something other than melancholy and loss. But there were times when the breakup felt as if it was nothing to her and the possible resurfacing of her feelings for Carol was just background-- something she couldn’t (wouldn’t) pay attention to but was evidently there all this time. She knew better than to jump immediately into another likely pit of despair. But today was different. Therese felt everything intensely and incessantly.

When the clock struck half an hour past nine in the evening, Therese felt her stomach grumbling. She was too focused on her work that she failed to nourish herself since she was up this morning. She was too lazy and exhausted to prepare food that night so she went out to grab dinner at a deli near the Brooklyn Bridge. Although it was freezing outside, she feasted on her humble meal of a turkey sandwich by the park overlooking the East River. She observed people passing by huddled in groups or companionless yet bundled up in countless layers of cloth. She took a generous sip of her heaping apple and cinnamon tea from her travel mug to warm her. She wondered if the lone strangers would be celebrating Christmas alone just like her. She surmised because the people walked as if they have nowhere else to be. For the previous years, she was with Genevieve or Abby in merriment during this season. But Genevieve wasn’t around anymore, and Abby decided to take a trip to Switzerland out on a whim. Therese had no family to come home to as well. How could one end up alone in a season that emphasized the importance of company? Therese didn’t see that one coming. NYC’s skyline was cloaked with light all throughout days and nights, but during the holiday season, they multiplied. For some reason, it saddened Therese instead of brightening up her spirits. It was probably just one of those days, Therese thought. It was that kind of day when the feeling of not mattering someone seeped inside her skin, the unshakable feeling that she was no one to anyone. Did she even matter to someone? Perhaps, she did. But if there was someone-- even just one, she would have a hard time believing it.

* * *

Therese went back to her apartment at quarter past ten in the evening. As she strode in the desolate corridor, she could vaguely see a woman on her doorway. She paused momentarily. She wasn’t wearing her glasses so she couldn’t make out who that person was unless she moved closer. Therese wasn’t expecting anyone so she was quite surprised that someone dropped by-- and even that, the stranger knew where she lived. The woman turned around as she heard Therese’s footsteps get closer. It was Carol.  
“Therese…” The blonde woman offered Therese a smile, but she only stared back at her blankly.  
“Carol! What brings you here?”  
“I just wanted to drop this by. It’s for you.” In Carol’s hands was a gift box wrapped in gold paper and tied with a burgundy bow. “I also wanted to apologize for what happened last Thanksgiving.”  
“If there’s anyone who should apologize, it’s me.” Therese felt like she spoke for her and Genevieve’s actions. It was embarrassing having other people see them fight. They both should’ve known better. But it was already done and she hoped everyone would could move on from it.  
“It’s all right. We all have those days.”  
Therese was a bit unnerved that Carol somehow understood her, that she echoed what she was thinking. Therese nodded and shuffled to find her keys in her pocket.  
“Would you like to come in? The place is a little bit of a mess though.” Therese understated. Her studio was in complete disorder.  
“It’s alright, darling. I won’t stay long.”  
Darling. How long has it been since Therese heard that slip from Carol’s lips? She smirked as she opened the door. The two entered the studio.  
“Thank you for the gift by the way. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten you anything.” Therese spoke as she removed her scarf and her parka. If Therese was honest, she didn’t buy gifts for anyone this year. She wasn’t even expecting Carol to be around for that matter.  
“You need not to get anything for me.” Carol offered Therese a smile once more. She didn’t know if the younger woman was aware of the feelings that arise within her when they find themselves alone together in a secluded place.  
“Would you like something to drink? Tea? Water? Perhaps something alcoholic?” Therese chuckled at the last bit. Carol agreed to a bottle beer. Just one, she said. She needed to get back home immediately since the neighbors were watching Rindy for just a moment.  
“Are you doing well?” Carol asked as Therese passed her a bottle of stout beer.  
“I’m all right, I guess.” Therese spoke nonchalantly. “I’d be lying if I said I’m in high spirits this season.”  
“Did you and Gen…” Carol was avoiding from saying the words. She was also trying to hide whatever grand reaction she might have from hearing Therese’s answer.  
“We broke up.” Therese didn’t provide much of an answer as she took a long swig of her beer after responding. Her words were guarded and quite sparse from the way they should have come out. Therese liked keeping some things for herself, and she didn’t think she owed Carol an explanation for what happened between her and Genevieve. Carol, on the other hand, waited for a continuation but Therese didn’t give it to her. Her curiosity wasn’t quenched, but in that tragedy, she found hope for herself even if it sounded a bit conceited.  
“Mind if I smoke?” Therese asked taking a pack of smokes out of the pocket of her parka.  
“Not at all.”  
Therese opened the window by the fire escape. She slid the pack of Lucky Strikes to Carol and she took one. Carol sat beside Therese on the window pane and accidentally brushed her hand on the younger woman. Therese seemed to not mind it, but Carol blushed a bit. They basked in the silence as both of them huffed out wisps of smokes simultaneously. Carol turned to look at Therese but she looked as if she had a lot of things in her mind. Her eyes appeared as if she was thinking of something distant, something she wouldn’t understand if she just gazed at her. But god, she cherished every second that she could behold Therese in her sight. The way her eyes scintillated hinted on how much she wanted to hold Therese, but she couldn’t, not now when she seems so vulnerable in reeling from a breakup. It was so easy to take advantage of someone weakened in their emotions, and she didn’t want to do that with Therese. If she had to give her heart-- if she ever will, she wanted it to be given effortlessly.  
“There’s something I want to know, things I want to ask, but I’m not sure if you want to hear them.” Therese finally broke the silence. Her empty green eyes staring back on her tantalized grey ones.  
“Ask me anything.” Carol beckoned.  
Therese adjusted the way she sat and flicked the burned tobacco at the end of her cigarette. She watched it flit in the air before she spoke again.  
“Do you regret leaving me?”  
Carol was taken aback with Therese’s boldness. The older woman felt like she owed Therese some honesty, so she gave it to her.  
“There wasn’t a day that I didn’t.”  
“Wasn’t? Past tense?” Therese asked with a smirk as if she knew what Carol had in the back of her mind. Carol took a quick gulp from her beer, the bitterness of the drink swishing around her mouth. The younger woman eagerly waited for answer but her former lover only sighed, her breath visible in the cold winter air.  
“But… there are things I wouldn’t have seen the true value of without trailing off.” She turned to Therese with eyes longing and a forced smile. She wouldn’t have known how much Therese mattered to her if she hadn’t committed the mistakes that she did. Of course the guilt ate her inside and she felt like she wanted to take it all back, take all the hurt back and start from the beginning when love could come to be so new and easy to them. But it seemed too late.  
“We’ll love better when we know better.” Therese swung with her own aphorism from what she had come to learn from her relationships with both Carol and Genevieve. “Don’t give me that look.” Therese noticed the longing in Carol’s eyes as she said those words. She made it sound like she was joking. Carol only gazed at her that way because she was amused with what Therese said.  
“What look?” The blonde averted her gaze as if she was snapped out of her short delusion.  
“Like I’m..” Like I’m still the love of your life, Therese wanted to be straightforward but she can’t. Her words were stuck in her throat. “Never mind.”  
Silence settled between the two once more. It wasn’t the uncomfortable kind of silence. Therese wanted company that night, and she was glad that Carol came to see her even if it was unannounced. Therese finished her bottle of beer and set it aside. Carol beheld Therese’s subtleties-- the way her paint-stained fingers gently thumped on the window sill, the way she bit her lower lip and narrowed her eyes when observing something far off in the distance, and the way her cheeks involuntarily turn red even against the cold. Oh how Carol wished she could leave a peck on her rosy cheeks, moreover on her lips if she allowed.  
“Therese?”  
“Yeah?” The young woman turned to her.  
“Did you love Genevieve?” It was Carol’s turn to ask for some ounce of truth.  
“After everything?” Therese paused, reminiscing fragments of what she and Genevieve used to have. Her breath so visible in the cold as she sighed. “I did. I did love her...” She toyed with a loose thread hanging off at the seams of her sweater. She thought of how her former lover would react to it, react to the knowledge that she had indeed loved someone unconditionally for years after her. “I mean, we’ve been together for years… that has to”  
“You seem uncertain.” Carol shook her head and simpered for moment. She felt Therese holding back on some things. She surmised that the younger woman was being careful not to hurt her feelings. Talking about a flame to a former flame was dangerous territory, yet the older woman understood.  
“I’m not.” Therese smiled as she drew out a long breath with the puff of smoke blending in with the direction of the wind. She meant it. She was certain about how she felt before. “I’m very certain that I know how love should feel like.” Therese looked at Carol, and Carol looked back at her. They stayed like that for a while. Their eyes met and Therese returned Carol’s honesty. “If I know what love is, it’s because of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you haven't yet, do read my short story that has been published last month:  
> http://www.asiancha.com/content/view/2385/551/


	16. Truth is a Beautiful Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol and Therese ruminate on the consequences of leaving and of abandonment. A heated confrontation erupts when Carol takes it upon herself to find an ounce of bravery to say everything she had been keeping from Therese all this time. This is the storm I have been hinting on for the past chapters. But is braving through this storm worth it if the tides finally shift?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost a year since I've updated huh? Explanations in the end of the chapter. Enjoy reading for now!

“I have to go…”

“Go where?”

“Home.”

Carol hurriedly stubbed her half-burnt cigarette on the side of the windowsill, the embers flittering ever so slowly in the air paralleling the faint snow falling on the cold streets of New York City. She frantically gathered up her belongings placed around Therese’s studio-- her coat hung by the arm of a wooden chair, her purse strewn with the used brushes and paints on the artist’s work desk, and a small bag of groceries she intended to take back home was atop the counter in Therese’s kitchen. Carol’s belongings haphazardly strewn along with Therese’s own seemed to be where they were meant to be-- like this was her own space, a space she shared with someone, a place she calls home and nowhere else. The time shown 9:34pm on her gold wristwatch. She did not know whether it was the tiny tinge of alcohol from the beer (she had been quite the lightweight ever since she stopped drinking before she and Harge decided to have Rindy) or the longing to be with Therese that made her forget that she had only asked her neighbors to look after Rindy until the top of the hour. She owed her neighbors big time for always being ready to keep an eye on her daughter when the moment necessitated. Although it was not a huge deal for them because their own kids enjoyed playing with Rindy, she did feel like she was always asking them for a huge favor.

“Rindy,” Carol broke the silence. “I’m sorry but I have to come home for her.”

“Of course.” Therese casually spoke in a monotone, devoid of the mixed bag of emotions her mind was trying to comprehend of what was happening that night.

Therese’s gaze blankly followed the tall, slender woman moving hastily around her small studio. Carol had to leave. Was it any surprise to her? The coming and going of beautiful blonde women was becoming an all too predictable predicament in her life. As she watched Carol, in her mind it all seemed to be a blur-- a converging image of Carol as Genevieve and of Genevieve as Carol; they were as if one individual. It didn’t matter who is who, which is which. Therese was all too familiar with the lines that drew to abandonment, the feeling that would have imploded within her. It did not matter as much now because as far as she was concerned, she felt numb about it. The act of leaving had the same face.  

Carol felt the younger woman’s eyes on her. She sheepishly peeked from her shoulder and saw the brunette staring at her. Her eyes were tired and her face was without any expression. She could not paint the emotions on Therese’s face the whole night. Therese would say something that made her heart race but the young woman’s gestures would say otherwise. Carol did not know whether Therese wanted her to be around or that she wanted to be left alone. But if she had to be honest, she wanted to stay a little longer regardless if her presence was not so pleasant for Therese. It sounded sad and desperate. She knew she would just make a fool out of herself. But this was her gauging if she could still have a shot at lost love if she were allowed to stay again. She wanted to stay because she felt the eagerness to quench the longing she felt for her for the longest time, stay as if every tick of a second with Therese was enough to make up for the time that she had been gone. Without a question, Carol left Therese with intent and the guilt ate her up every time it came to her consciousness. But is leaving truly in itself leaving when the absence of someone only intensifies their presence?

“I’ll walk with you. Let me hail you a cab.” Therese offered when she noticed Carol heading for the doorway.

“Do not trouble yourself anymore.” Carol quickly responded, letting the guilt catch up on her knowing there was more than trouble that she had left for Therese in the past.

* * *

 

_If I know what love is, it is because of you._ The words still echoed inside Carol’s head as she attempted to hail a cab at the corner of the snow-laden street. A smile peered on the corner of her lips but it abruptly faded when she ruminated on it further. Carol had the worst habit of overthinking. _What did Therese mean by that?_ She thought to herself. Love. What a crazy thing to say, to mention at the very least, to someone who was denied of it. What significant, miraculous thing did she do for Therese to know what love meant-- when love meant the contrary to everything that she did to the young woman?

The neon lights of New York glimmered in her eyes as the cab rushed through the avenues. It had always felt right, she thought to herself, to be in this city-- to be here. And sure, everyone had a way of romanticizing the Big Apple. But she knew she had other reasons why she felt that way for it. The cab passed by the corner of the street where Therese used to sell her artworks when she was just starting out. Carol’s heart leapt knowing that was where everything began with her. Oh how time flew so rapidly! Part of her wished she could rewind to that simple time again and make everything right from then on. But the other half of her wanted to fast forward to a time that she and Therese would hopefully be together again. However, it was looming too in her mind that if she wished to fast forward time, there may be a possibility for her to live without Therese-- that these few insipid moments with the young artist, rationed out to fulfill the shallowest of her happiness, were all temporary. She may then stop wondering about the young woman every single damn minute of everyday. Carol felt absolutely pathetic about thinking of Therese all the time. She was reminded of the brunette in the most innocuous situations, the most banal of objects. It wasn’t healthy and she was cognizant of it. As the cab halted on a red light, Carol saw a young woman crossing the street roughly resembling the silhouette of the frail Therese. It reminded of her of the time she last saw Therese at the Robichek Modern in London. Her memories were replicating dissimilar instances. She knew her eyes were playing tricks on her. Somehow this prompted her to silence the conflicting voices inside her head-- to swallow the guilt and chase it down with an ounce more of bravery and truth.

Carol phoned her neighbors apologizing and asking them to look after Rindy for a little while longer. It was no problem for them at all.

“Excuse me,” she got the attention of the cab driver. “Can we go back? I forgot something.”

* * *

 

A strong series of knocks on the door detracted Therese from her concentration. She cussed underneath her breath. She hated being taken away from her focus. She took a long swig of whiskey before she sauntered to see who it was.

“Carol!” Therese was surprised as she swung the door open. “Did you forget something?” The young woman looked around before she looked back to Carol. The woman’s grey eyes could not meet Therese’s. She was visibly nervous. Her eyes roamed the artist’s studio. Therese was still working on an art piece at this point of the night. Carol noticed that she was obviously drinking in the midst of it as well. A half full bottle of whiskey was propped beside various pieces of wood cut in odd shapes. Therese waited for an answer but Carol seemed to be tongue-tied. Carol held back the words she so longed to say to Therese. She wove every single possible moment she could say them in her daydreams actually. But now that she had this moment, she was utterly frozen. Her hands were urging to trail the side of Therese’s face and even try to move in for a kiss but she couldn’t move. She had the words. She held them. But how should she say them? Is it even the right time to say them? Should they even escape from the cusps of her lips? As she discerned the growing look of bewilderment in Therese, Carol took a deep breath. When she finally found a way to say it, when she mustered every single bit of courage she could, the words she had always longed to speak only came out plainly.

“I miss you.”

Carol breathed out as soon the words she tightly wound herself in all those years escaped her. She dove deep and needed to come up for air but she was not finished just yet. She felt exhilarated and scared at the same time. How can one be so whole yet so incomplete in one breath? There was a pause that seemed to span an eternity before Carol continued.

“I love you, Therese. I never stopped loving you.” The older woman’s voice became softer-- not weak, but charged with sincerity as she got her momentum. “Everything after you was some failed attempt to make up for a dumb, stupid mistake that I can never take back.” Away from her better judgment and immersed in the moment, she held Therese’s hands. Warm in her touch, it sent a shiver down her spine. “And I know that I can never take back what I’ve done. But I can also never take back the love I had for you. I’ve tried, but there can’t be anyone else.” Carol finally got the courage to look the brunette in her eye as she spoke, “It’s always going to be you, darling.”

Carol’s eyes searched for life in Therese. The young artist’s subtleties, ever so graceful in her sight even as she stood there expressionless. Therese, however, did not know how to react. She was caught off guard. She was not expecting this from Carol, not this early at least when it was just a month from her official break up with Genevieve. Carol was laying down the truth right in front of her. As Carol reached for her hand, she immediately let go of it. She asked herself, so is truth a beautiful thing now? When it shakes you to your very core and forces you to reveal the secrets of your unexplorable depths? Therese’s lips quivered. As a tear rolled down from her eye, she averted her gaze from the woman.

“Is this what you want?” Carol simply wanted to know once more, but now in a different context.

The young woman didn’t answer. She didn’t want to speak because she knew as soon as words came out of her mouth, tears would torrentially stream down her face. They would never stop because the truth had always been her weakness. Though she was already half-drunk from whiskey, she was still aware of what was transpiring. Her feelings seem to be welling up in her chest. She wanted to reach for her bottle of whiskey but instead, she just  bit her lip and toyed with her calloused fingers.

“Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk away. I’ll stay away.” Carol voice became stern. “I won’t keep you from the very thing that you’ve wanted for all these years… from love or art or happiness. I won’t do that again. Just tell me that this,” Carol swallowed her tears. “This life you have now… is what you truly want.”

Therese clung to her silence. She seemed not to be swayed to speak for herself. However, Carol’s tone quickly changed from sweet to standoffish. Therese was not answering and the older woman was getting impatient. Baring herself so truthfully then getting the reaction that Therese was giving was unacceptable.

“Even after all these years you still don’t know what you want, Therese?” The young woman’s memories flashed back to that day Carol broke up with her. Did she have the same response as before? That she knew what she wanted, and what she wanted was Carol? Therese was confused, conflicted with all the questions Carol had for her but she was not prepared to provide answers. Genevieve had recently left her life. Unbeknownst to her that time, she had been slowly mourning the deteriorating relationship. She was not ready for another storm or another whirlwind romance that might leave her in complete ruin once more. Her heart knew what it wanted but the real question was: was she ready for it?

Carol searched Therese’s eyes. She didn’t mean to be standoffish but she just had to know. However, Therese was neither acknowledging what Carol said nor showing any signs of life or fight. Defeated, Carol averted her gaze from the brunette. She could not hold her own tears anymore and she let them fall-- fall like the snow outside, fall as it is in the face of love, fall then break when feelings never just seem to settle right. Carol turned away not wanting Therese to see her in her utmost vulnerable. She began walking away. There was no use in shaking Therese for an explanation. It was something she would have to give freely. She was tired from forcing things to happen, for forcing something that might have not been meant to be all along.

“It’s not fair...” Therese spoke faintly. It seemed like a whisper, blowing with the cold wind of the night outside. Carol stopped in her tracks.

“All those years,” Therese took a long deep breath. It took every ounce of her courage to speak. “I looked for you. I pleaded for you to come back. I waited, Carol.” She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. She let them roll down her cheeks. Her voice shook but she kept on speaking. “I was some fucked up idiot waiting for you, waiting for something that was never going to come back.”

Carol turned around and slowly walked back to the brunette. Therese could not lie that she had thought of this occurring from the back of her head, dreamed about it even. Years before, she might have wanted this to happen. She wanted to confront Carol for all the shit she put her through. But now, she didn’t know if she could handle it-- handle the truth from Carol when she cannot see the truth within herself just yet.

“I forgot who I was, and it took me years to build myself again. Now you can’t just expect me to tell you that you’re still the person I want-- that I’m happy seeing you claw your way back into my life. Did I want any of this? No, I didn’t.”

The truth spilling out of her lips was something that Therese didn’t expect from herself as well. Her tears stopped falling and her voice became rigid, finding the courage within her just as her companion did.

“You want to know what I want? I want to be happy. And to be honest, I was happy with Genevieve… and yes, I used to be happy with you, but this… I’m not ready for this.” She swallowed and breathed in. “Not yet, at least”

The last bit gave Carol a little bit of hope. Therese was not ready so she felt that there was still a chance for the future, a short, slim string of hope she was holding onto.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being stupid and letting you go. If I could take back all the hurt I caused you, I would. You don’t know how bad I want to.” The older woman’s voice came back with life because of the seeming hope that she had newly found in Therese’s response. However, she was cautious about how it could turn out but she can’t hold back now.“But you can’t tell me stop feeling the way I do for you. I know you’re not ready for this. I will wait. It doesn’t matter how long it would take for me to wait for you.” Carol reached for Therese hand once more. “Because after all these years, I still do. I still love you, Therese.”

This time, the younger woman didn’t brush of the blonde’s touch in disdain. She just looked down to their hands. She slowly intertwined their fingers together before closing in the space between them. _I still love you, Therese._ The words rung in her ears. Did she love Carol back? She was not ready to ruminate nor say. She did not even know if the feelings that resurfaced were leading up to it. She gazed up to let her emerald eyes meet Carol’s. She cupped her other hand on the taller woman’s cheek and gave her a chaste kiss. Carol lingered on it longer obviously wanting more from Therese. She thrust herself forward for another kiss but Therese did not give her privilege just yet. Instead,Therese took Carol by the arm and pulled her inside her studio. She shut the door and pushed the older woman down to her bed. Therese strode to her work desk and took a gulp from her whiskey, letting the warmth of the alcohol rush through her. For Carol, observing Therese without reservations, who unknowing of the way that she will always behold her, was something she couldn’t do when Genevieve was still around. She basked in this moment with Therese. They were alone, and she didn’t want to be alone with anyone but her. Therese bit her lower lip and combed her hair through her fingers, an involuntary habit that she does repeatedly when she’s being cocky. It affirmed what Carol had already known. She still knew Therese like the back of her hand.

Carol’s eyes were burning of desire as she watched the younger woman slowly take off her clothes one by one right in front of her. She wanted her so bad she could taste it as she licked her lips. Therese walked towards Carol, straddled her and closed the gap between them before she wove her fingers in the blonde’s hair and kissed her passionately, her tongue colliding with the other woman’s ever so often. Carol bid her time as her lips delicately graced every inch of Therese’s bare skin; her hands cupping each breasts and then gradually sliding down her lithe body. Therese seemed to be more comfortable in her own skin now as compared before. She knew how she wanted it and was ready to take charge. She lied down and pulled the taller woman towards her. She kissed Carol once more before she brought the blonde’s mouth down to taste her. Therese gripped Carol’s head between her thighs and she tensed at the slightest touch of the older woman near her pleasure. Carol did not have any problem letting Therese guide her. She was consumed to be everything that Therese needed that night. Her fingers entered the younger woman and filled her. She felt the brunette’s drenched loveliness contracting. Her mouth did not stray away from the young woman’s warmth until she was overcome by waves of pleasure.   

What took her apart, for a moment, took her back together. If Therese knew what love was because of Carol, was this it?

Carol’s face blazed over a flushed Therese after she came. But what else was to come?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!
> 
> First off, I want to apologize for going AWOL for such a long time. I've plenty of reasons (with life getting in the way mostly) but mainly because I honestly did not know how to end this fic. I started off wanting to write this fic with such an angsty tone of rekindling first love. But after a while, it waned on me as I started to realize that I did have to write an ending to it-- which I ironically had not fleshed out when I made an outline for the major events. 
> 
> Why the sudden motivation to write an ending? Well, SOMEONE (you know who you are, lurker :P ) inspired me to come back and write this fic again. But I also thought of an ending that's truly fitting for the fic.
> 
> If you're still around reading this, thank you so much for your patience! I wasn't expecting a lot of people to read this, much more to connect with the story. I appreciate every person who shared their personal experiences in love and in heartbreak to me in my emails. You guys are so extra! I love it! Some of you even found my work email lol I can't blame you. You can easily find it when you know where to look in the internet. 
> 
> For those of you who sent me personal emails and DMs: thank you for baring your hearts and minds to me, for telling me how this fic has resonated with you in your circumstance and how it has helped you to cope. It is humbling to know that my words have reached out to you. It's just a story-- so they say. But it's a story that knows who you are and what you've been through-- much like a friend. We break, we fall apart (so so so many times), we finally mend ourselves, we grow, and more importantly, we find the courage to love again. 
> 
> If any of you still want to share your stories to me (about love, heartbreak or what not), I'd be happy to listen (read) them. If you have questions about the fic or if you just need a friend you can talk to, just holler :)
> 
> Contact me through email: inevitablegx11@gmail.com or DMs in Instagram via xychedelics. I'll try to respond to your messages and comments. For the mean time, enjoy. It was my birthday last week so this is my gift for y'all. I'm a giver *wink wink* Y'all are masochists for liking this fic a little too much hahaha
> 
> Bear with me since the two final updates shall come sparingly.
> 
> -Xy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> \--sapphic-saoirse.tumblr.com


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